


Back to December

by tricia_16



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Angst with a Happy Ending, Another Woman Kisses Dean, But Dean Doesn't Kiss Her Back (not technically infidelity!), Dean Comes Out, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Winchester is Not Gay, Failing to move on, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Getting Back Together, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Sacrificing Dean Winchester, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-16 01:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 142,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12332913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricia_16/pseuds/tricia_16
Summary: Dean Winchester figures he's got it pretty good. He likes his job, he's close with Sam and his girlfriend, and he never has any trouble finding a willing woman to tear up the sheets with. That all changes one day when a dark haired, blue eyed dude walks into his bar wearing a trench coat. With their witty banter and the calming effect Castiel seems to have on him, they quickly become inseparable.As their relationship gets more and more serious, he starts doubting himself, wondering if he's really making Cas as happy as he can be... or if maybe somebody else could be better for Cas than he is?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I want to give my biggest, most sincere thanks to my graphic artist, [lotrspnfangirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/pseuds/lotrspnfangirl). Not only can she do things with art that I could never even begin to be able to do, she was supportive, above and beyond helpful, and even more than that, extremely sweet and supportive. This is my first ever DCBB and I was very lucky to be paired with such a great person. Thank you so much for all of the extra work you put into this for me. I am so, so thankful <3
> 
> Here is a link to [the art master post](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12333732%22), which I highly suggest you check out!
> 
> 1-26-18: I have remastered this story so that it's all together instead of in several different parts. If I've messed up in the re-ordering of things please let me know!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/st1sUwG)<

Dean Winchester figures he’s got it pretty good. He owns The Roadhouse, a bar on the outskirts of Wichita Falls, Texas. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s clean, the food is decent, and as a bar, it serves alcohol and gets the job done. He’s got an apartment he digs, and nobody’s got a cooler car than his 1967 Chevy Impala. He’s got an annoying little brother, Sam, who doubles as his best friend, and he even loves Sam’s girlfriend, Jess, like she’s a sister. There’s no doubt in his mind that she actually will be some day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He’s been told that he’s good looking throughout his life often enough that he started using it to his advantage at thirteen. It’s never been hard to find a willing woman to burn up the sheets with, and he can’t imagine ever wanting to settle down. He figures it's kinda like pie. He  _loves_ cherry pie, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t occasionally want a slice of apple or pecan. He doesn’t want to commit to just one pie, or just one woman, for the rest of his life.

He’s working until close tonight because his new guy quit last minute, and he’s not particularly happy about it. But he’s the owner, and this is the kinda thing that falls on him, unfortunately. It’s a Monday night in the first week of January, and it’s pretty dead, so he’s restocking the bar and rewashing dusty glasses when he hears the bell on the door ring letting him know that somebody’s coming in.

He looks up to see an unfamiliar man with a crazy mop of dark hair wearing a trench coat - who the hell wears a goddamn trench coat these days, anyway? - that’s definitely seen better days. He goes back to what he was doing until he hears the man settle in at the bar in front of him.

“Hey,” Dean says gruffly, nodding to the stranger. “What can I get for ya?”

When the man looks up at him he’s taken aback by how freaking  _blue_ his eyes are.

“Beer,” the man answers. “Whatever blonde you have on tap,” he continues, and Dean’s surprised that such a deep, gravelly voice comes from such a scrawny looking dude.

“Comin’ right up,” he smiles.

The man slumps over at his waist and rests his forehead on the bar. Dean stifles a laugh at just how pathetic the guy looks, pours him his beer, and slides it across the bar with a coaster. “First one’s on the house,” Dean tells him, catching the man’s attention enough to get him to sit back up.

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary,” he says.

“I don’t know about that, man, you look like you’ve had a hell of a day.”

“It’s not that bad in the grand scheme of things. I just moved into town. Moving is bad enough as it is, but it was made even worse because I had to spend an entire day with my two idiotic brothers,” he grumbles. “Then when I  _finally_ managed to get them to leave I realized I had no food in the house. And since I’d rather lick a toilet seat than go do groceries right now, I ended up here,” the man explains.

_Lick a toilet seat?_ That’s… graphic. What a weird dude. Dean gives him a crooked smile. “I know it happens on TV a lot, but people don’t really spill their guts to bartenders all the time, ya know.” The man flushes and Dean chuckles at him. “It does sound like a day though, I’ll give ya that. You earned the free beer.”

“Sorry for babbling,” the man responds.

Dean shrugs. “Nah, I was just buggin’ ya. Not much else going on here tonight anyway. What’s your name?”

“Castiel,” the man answers.

“Huh. That’s different,” Dean comments.

“Yes,” Castiel responds flatly. “You do sell food here, correct?”

“Oh yeah,” Dean laughs at his terrible service skills. “I’m covering the waitressing - waiting? -” he corrects, making a face and wondering why that doesn’t sound right before shrugging it off and continuing, “- tonight since everybody else pretty much bailed.” Reaching under the bar, he produces a laminated menu and hands it to Castiel. “I’m a little rusty.”

“Well, considering you gave me a free beer, I suppose I’ll have to take it easy on you,” Castiel answers easily.

“I tend to like people who give me free beer, too,” Dean grins, and he gets his first smile in response from Castiel. It really transforms his entire demeanor from grouchy weird guy to… almost… cute? Dean shakes the thought away. He hasn’t thought a guy was cute since Sam was about eleven years old. No, the dude looks...  _friendlier_ , he decides, replacing the previously offending word in his mind without another thought.

“I’ll keep that in mind in case I want you to like me more later,” Castiel says flirtatiously, very obviously dropping his eyes down to focus on Dean’s lips. Dean looks away nervously because  _holy shit_ he’s pretty sure this dude’s hitting on him.

“Hey, uh…” Dean begins, but the man waves him away, laughing softly.

“Don’t worry about it. Figured it was a long shot, but with a face like that I had to try anyway,” Castiel says, smiling kindly. “I’m assuming you need something to write my order on?”

Dean laughs, appreciating the way Castiel isn’t making it weird that he hit on him and got turned down. “Even I can remember a single meal. Come on, try me.”

“I will have the very unoriginally named  _Roadhouse Burger_ with everything on it and a salad on the side with Italian dressing,” Castiel says, quirking his lips at his own joke.

“I’ll have you know that burger was named after a cut-throat city-wide vote,” Dean tells him. He turns to shout Castiel’s order through the window to the kitchen and gets a wave from Ellen in response.

“I see the lack of creativity transcends to the entire city, then. Something I was not informed of when I accepted a job here.”

“Should’ve come in here first, then, and scoped the place out. Would’ve saved you from all that moving in just to move back out again,” Dean jokes, and Castiel smiles. “Where'd you get a job?”

“Ledgers Online,” Castiel answers. “It’s a bookkeeping business located above The Computer Doctors.”

“Oh yeah? I got a friend who works at The Computer Doctors. Charlie Bradbury. You run into her yet?”

Castiel frowns. “Not that I’m aware of, though I did meet many people all at once.”

Laughing knowingly, Dean explains, “You didn’t meet her then. Charlie leaves an impression.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Castiel nods. He seems to be grasping for something to say before he continues. “I actually don’t know anybody who lives here. My closest friends are three hours away. I was kind of hoping I would meet some people at the bar, but unless I make friends with the off-putting man in the corner, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen.”

“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with Marv,” Dean says. He leans in closer and lowers his voice and says, “As long as you wanna have your ear talked off for hours at a time about the complexity of storytelling.”

Castiel’s lips quirk again and he replies, “Well, I suppose if I’m not supposed to spill my guts to the bartender than he’s really the only option I have left.”

Dean likes this guy. He’s witty. And surprisingly easy to talk to. “Guess if I introduce myself then we’d be acquaintances and I won't just be ‘the bartender’. Then you’d know somebody in town and I could let you yap at me without setting any precedents for future loners in ugly trench coats who might want me to make small talk,” Dean offers.

Castiel leans back and crosses his arms. “Is Marv over there going to insult me like you or just talk about storytelling?”

Dean laughs. “Alright, maybe we can’t be acquaintances after all. Not if you’re gonna cry every time I make fun of you.”

“Tease the gay guy about crying. Very original. I bet you’re the one who named the  _Roadhouse Burger_ after all.”

Dean can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him because the fucker is right. He slaps his hand on the bar between them and says, “You got me, Cas.” Castiel laughs along with him, which makes those stupidly blue eyes of his shine even brighter. “The name’s Dean Winchester,” he continues, “and you’re looking at the owner of this fancy place with the unoriginally named burger.”

Castiel obviously tries to hide his smile but fails miserably. “You’re joking.” Dean shakes his head, amused with this entire conversation. “Well, that’s only mildly embarrassing. It could’ve been worse. I suppose I could’ve complained about the prices.”

Dean grins and hears the bell ding behind him letting him know Castiel’s order is up. “Saved by the bell,” Dean quips, turning to grab the food and place it in front of Cas. He pulls out some silverware and a stack of napkins from under the bar and lays them beside the plate. “Bon appetit,” he says.

“You should add  _international cuisine_ to your laminated menus with French like that,” Castiel says, stabbing his salad.

“Not exactly the kinda French I'm known for around here,” Dean smirks, and Dean notices that Castiel bobbles his fork a little.

“I really shouldn't be surprised,” Castiel says quietly, taking a bite of his salad.

“You’re not the only one who’s noticed my pretty face,” Dean teases.

Castiel’s face is a very bright shade of red and Dean’s just starting to feel bad when Castiel says, “I was just trying to get more free beer.”

Dean smirks, aware that they both know he’s lying, and says, “You’re kinda an asshole. I like you.”

“There’s a gay joke there that's begging to be made, but let the record show I'm a better man than that,” Castiel says, picking up his burger and taking a bite.

Dean chuckles. “I've never been friends with a gay guy before,” he admits.

Castiel chews a little bit before he responds around his mouthful. “I'm not exactly surprised to hear that. You own a bar in Texas, you’re wearing flannel, and there’s just something about you that practically screams butch.”

Dean scoffs. He’s not a butch. “Yeah? Well, my friend, the Charlie I said who works at The Computer Doctors? She’s as gay as they come. She probably shits rainbows.”

“As we all do,” Castiel replies, making Dean laugh again.

Dean shakes his head again before offering him a smile. “I’ll let you eat in peace,” he offers, and gives Castiel a few minutes to eat his food while he moves off to the side a little to continue cleaning glasses.

Castiel breaks the silence between them several minutes later by saying, “Not everybody would react so well to meeting an admittedly gay stranger. I appreciate you still being kind to me. I am happy to hear you're an ally.”

Dean shrugs a shoulder, uncomfortable with the label. “I guess. Sam, my brother, he's more of the waving the gay pride flag kinda guy. I just don't judge. Do what makes you happy or whatever.”

“Is your brother gay? Does he look like you?”

Dean chuckles, and Castiel does, too, seemingly pleased by Dean thinking his joke was funny. “He's got long hair like a chick and I do call him Samantha from time to time when he’s being a little bitch, but no, he's not actually gay. He's been with his girlfriend Jess for a couple of years now. Already told me he's gonna marry her someday. Poor son of a bitch. And I’m pretty sure my face is hell of a lot nicer than his ugly mug,” he adds to answer the second question.

Castiel shakes his head slowly and seems to struggle with how to respond. “There are so many things so unbelievably wrong with what you just said I don't even know where to start.”

Dean gives him a cheesy smile. “Good thing I'm adorable, right?”

“And a terrible flirt. You're straight and still can't stop flirting with me,” Castiel accuses, taking another bite of his dinner.

“Dude, no,” Dean argues. He wasn't flirting. “I'm not flirting with you. I'm teasing you. There's a difference.”

“I'm not complaining,” he says smiling, making Dean roll his eyes.

“If I was flirting with you, you'd know it. I really don't swing that way,” Dean insists.

Castiel seems to be searching his eyes for something. “Well, I do need some friends, and you seem to be a slightly better choice than Marv. So I suppose it's not a total loss, even with the unintentional flirtations,” Castiel tells him.

Dean leans on the bar again and smiles at him. “I dunno if we can be friends just like that, man. There's things I gotta know before we can take that step.”

“Something tells me I'm going to get grilled harder than the girls you sleep with, but go ahead. Do your worst.”

Dammit, he’s right again. Dean narrows his eyes. “Star Wars or Star Trek?”

Castiel laughs. “Star Wars, clearly.”

“Favorite Led Zeppelin song?”

Castiel laughs. “Stairway to Heaven is probably the only one I know.”

Dean winces. “AC/DC?”

Castiel lowers his voice and says, “You know this is 2013, right?”

Dean frowns and shakes his head. “You were so close, too. Better luck next time.”

Castiel shrugs. “That's okay, these burgers are shit anyway.”

Dean’s mouth drops, because he’s not entirely wrong, but nobody else has just come out and said it to him before. “You fucker.”

Castiel bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay, they’re not shit, but they’re not the greatest. Which is unfortunate since I’ll likely be in here a lot.”

“Just can’t stay away from me, huh?” Dean asks, grinning.

“Oh yes, the company is unparalleled,” Castiel says dryly. “But it’s mostly because I live next door.”

“Wait. You didn’t buy that little blue house on the corner, did you?”

“I did,” Castiel answers.

“That place is a frickin’ dump! Last time I stopped to take a look at it was a few years ago and it was falling apart even then!”

“I’m aware. It was cheap though, and I figured I could fix it up.”

Dean narrows his eyes at him. “You, uh, you’re a handy kinda guy?”

“I can see by your skepticism that I’m radiating the handyman vibe,” Castiel says sarcastically.

Dean snorts. “Not exactly. But I could be wrong.”

“You’re not,” Castiel admits, slumping forwards and resting his elbows on the bar again. “It was a terrible idea, and one borne of desperation.” He pushes his nearly finished dinner towards Dean to signal that he’s done with the plate. Dean grabs it from him and pushes it through the window behind him for Ellen to grab. When he turns back, he sees Castiel banging his head on the bar slowly and deliberately. Dude’s seriously pathetic. He sighs.

“Good thing your brand new friend is good with his hands in more ways than one,” Dean tells him.

Castiel picks his head up. “I thought I failed your test?”

“You made up for it by insulting my food.”

Castiel laughs. “That doesn’t even make any sense! But seeing as I’m desperate and there’s a very real possibility that I could fall through the floorboards of the house I bought and die there because I don’t know anyone in town to find my body… I will accept your friendship and the offer to help me stay alive.”

This guy is really something else. The only person he’s ever known that talks as much as him and uses such grandiose language is Charlie, he realizes. “I’m off tomorrow. You probably won’t die between now and then, right? I can swing by and either help you out of the hole or start to fix up the worst of the damage,” Dean offers.

“Do you have tools?”

Dean chuckles. “Who doesn’t have tools?” Castiel points to himself with an ashamed look on his face and Dean shakes his head. “Buys a fixer upper and doesn’t even have frickin’ tools,” he says to himself. “Who does that?”

“Me, apparently,” Castiel answers, and he drains the rest of his beer. “As fun as this has been, I need to get home before I fall asleep on your bar.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened,” Dean remarks. He rings up Castiel’s burger and salad at the till, and passes him the bill.

Castiel gets to his feet and, yeah, Dean somehow didn’t notice that he's almost as tall as him when he walked in. He notices it now while Castiel takes his wallet from his back pocket and leaves a twenty dollar bill on the bar. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asks.

“Does it matter what time I come by?” Dean asks.

“As long as it isn’t before ten a.m., no.”

Dean nods and gets Cas his change from the till. Castiel holds up his hands and shakes his head. “You keep the change for your excellent service,” he deadpans, and Dean smirks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean. It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, Cas, you too, man. See you tomorrow.”

Dean never would have guessed that he just met his new best friend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next afternoon, Dean drives to Cas’s house and winces when he climbs out of his Baby. The house looks worse than he remembers. The front steps are almost literally caved in for fuck’s sake. Dean pulls out his cell phone to start a list of shit they’re gonna need to do. Getting some new wood for the stairs seems like it should probably be a priority.

When he (carefully) makes his way up the steps with his tool box in his hands, he notices the front door isn’t all the way closed. He knocks on the frame around the door and calls out, “Cas?”

A few seconds later he hears footsteps approaching, and then Castiel pulls open the door. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and Dean notices absentmindedly that he isn’t as scrawny as he originally thought. That trench coat doesn’t do the dude any favors.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greets him.

“Your door was open. Thought somebody might’ve come in and pulled you outta the floor before I could.”

Castiel gives him a small smile but says, “No, the door just doesn’t close all the way.”

“Seems like a good place to start, then,” Dean says, and Castiel nods.

Dean walks through the door and sets down his toolbox so he can check out why it doesn’t close. Once he figures out the latch and strike plate don’t line up, he nods his head and says, “Watch and learn.” Less than ten minutes later, Dean demonstrates how Cas’s door now opens and closes with a flourish of his hands.

“My hero,” Castiel says in an exaggerated falsetto with his hands clasped over his chest. Dean can’t help but grin at him. “Only seven thousand things to go.”

“Your front steps are seriously dangerous,” Dean says.

Castiel nods. “Any chance you could help me fix those today?”

“We need wood,” Dean says, and Castiel’s grin comes quickly before he schools his face into a more serious expression. Dean doesn’t mention it, but he notices. Kinda weird.

“Do any hardware stores deliver around here? I don’t have a truck,” Castiel explains.

“Yeah, I can give Garth a call. I’ll take some measurements if you write ‘em down for me,” Dean says.

“See, I can be useful without tools,” Castiel points out, his face brightening.

“Yeah, I’d be lost without you,” Dean quips, grabbing a measuring tape from his tool box. They go back out to the front steps and Dean starts calling out measurements for Cas to write down. Ten minutes later, Dean calls Garth, tells him what they need, and asks him if he can deliver them already cut. Garth says he can do it and have them over in a half hour. So while they wait, Cas walks Dean through the rest of the house. A lot of it is in much better shape than Dean expected. The kitchen isn't that bad, and the bathroom and bedroom are okay, too. Altogether, Cas needs a paint job in the bedroom, a new faucet in the bathroom, more paint and a carpet for the living room, caulking in the bathroom around the tub upstairs (along with a dozen Magic Erasers), and new windows for pretty much the entire house. There’s one spot by the front door that the floorboards move under their feet, but Dean thinks there’s just some nails loose and Cas won’t actually fall through the floor. But other than that, the house isn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. It looks worse from the outside.

He tells Cas as much, and Cas looks relieved.

“I’m not starting work until next week, so I’ll have some time to paint before I start,” he tells Dean.

“Are windows in the budget?” Dean asks.

“Yes, I made sure to have a large budget for renovations,” Castiel says, and Dean smiles with relief.

“When Garth comes over, we can get him to measure and get you prices for them. Once those are in, then you can paint. If you want, I can go with you a little later and pick out the paint, look at faucets and carpet. I can probably get the faucet installed, the bathroom caulked, and the floorboards fixed up today. If the carpet can be delivered tomorrow I can do that, too, since I’m off again.”

“I think I might love you, Dean,” Castiel jokes.

“Well this is where I need to break up with you then,” Dean replies with a wink. He notices Castiel blushing and he tries to remember he needs to rein it in around him. “I go to extreme measures to avoid those three words.”

Castiel laughs weakly. “Is, um, everybody in town as nice to complete strangers as you are?” Castiel asks him.

“Nah, we’re mostly a bunch of dicks,” Dean says, but he’s smiling so that Cas will know he’s joking. “I, on the other hand, am such a nice guy that I kept waking up last night thinkin’ about you stuck in the floorboards. I kinda have to help you so I can sleep again.”

Castiel is about to respond when they hear Garth’s truck pull in. They walk out to greet him and help him unload the wood.

“Howdy, Dean! How’re you doing today?” Garth asks, smiling ear to ear.

“Not too bad, Garth. Thanks for coming over so quickly. This is Castiel. Cas, this is Garth,” Dean introduces them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Castiel. Welcome to Wichita Falls!” Garth replies, still beaming.

“Thank you. I have a feeling you and I will be seeing a lot of each other over the next little while as I attempt to make this house livable,” Castiel explains.

“That sounds good to me! I’m always happy to help, so don’t be shy about askin’ if you need anything, ya hear?”

“I appreciate that,” Castiel says. “In fact, it seems I’m going to need all new windows. Dean mentioned you might be able to take measurements and give me some prices?”

“Oh, I can absolutely help you out with that! Lead the way, my man!”

Dean is still chuckling at Garth’s infallible enthusiasm when he and Castiel come back out of the house. He hears Cas say, “How can I pay you for the lumber and delivery?”

“Just put it on my tab for now, Garth, and we’ll settle up when we come by later,” Dean interjects.

“Sounds like a plan, Stan! You’re in good hands with Dean, here. He won’t steer you wrong,” Garth smiles. “I’ll see you later then. Nice to meet ya, Castiel!”

Dean grabs a crowbar from the trunk of his car as Garth drives away. “He seems... extremely friendly,” Castiel comments.

“When he first moved here I literally thought he was high 24/7, but it turns out he’s just that happy.”

“Bizarre,” Castiel says.

Dean laughs, “I know. Wanna help tearing up the steps?”

Castiel’s eyes widen but he says, “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I can help. Just watch,” Dean offers. He shows Castiel how to do the first board, then hands the crowbar over. “Not rocket science.” Castiel exhales loudly, but grabs it from him and starts on the second step. It may not be graceful, but he gets the board up. “There ya go,” Dean encourages him with a smile.

“I doubt I looked as good as you did doing it,” Castiel grumbles, moving on to the next step.

“Lucky for you I couldn’t care less about how you look as long as you help out.”

“You make me nervous,” Castiel confesses, not looking at him.

Dean chuckles. “I get that a lot. Usually from chicks, but I guess you’re pretty much the same thing,” he teases.

Castiel snorts. “You are really something, you know that?”

Dean nods. “Yup, I’ve been told.”

“You’re very politically incorrect, you insult people you barely know, you’re conceited and unapologetic about it… and yet you gave a stranger a free beer because he looked like he was having a bad day, then offered up your weekend to come help him fix up his house for no reason other than kindness. You’re a walking contradiction.”

Dean shrugs. “I just do what I want. I know I can be a bit of a dick, but seriously, if I ever say anything that offends you or whatever just tell me and I’ll try to do better.”

“I appreciate you saying that. Thankfully I don’t get offended easily,” Castiel answers.

“We couldn’t be friends if you did.”

“I’m getting that,” Castiel replies, making Dean laugh.

“So why’d you move here anyway? Just for the job?” Dean asks.

“No. The job helped, but I really just needed to get away from my hometown. It was small and my family can be suffocating. I felt like I’d never be anything other than the youngest brother of the weird Novak family if I didn’t move.”

“You don’t seem  _that_ weird,” Dean offers.

“Well thank you for the glowing compliment,” Castiel says dryly.

“Seriously, though. Who wears a trench coat to a bar in the middle of the winter? Weren’t you freezing?”

“I like that coat!” Castiel argues. “And you sound just like Gabriel.”

“Boyfriend?” Dean asks.

“Older brother. One of them, anyway.”

“Oh. Well, I do have the annoying older brother bit down pat,” Dean says back.

“If that’s the case, I already feel as though I should offer your brother my sympathies.”

“Oh shut up, you think I’m awesome,” Dean reminds him.

“Mmmhmm, sure,” Castiel agrees, prying up the last board. “Will pay for labor with compliments.”

Dean‘s laugh rolls out of him. “I’ll take ‘em. Good job with the stairs, man. Now let’s get the posts out of the ground.”

Time passes quickly all day. So much so, that Dean finds himself thinking he hasn’t had this much fun on a day off in a long time. Which is weird, considering he’s been working the whole time. But Cas is fun to be around, and he’s really easy to talk to. He doesn’t know how to do shit around the house, but he’s good at following instructions, and Dean’s betting he just never had anybody to show him how to do this stuff. He’s stupid smart, too. He’d probably be able to figure it out on his own, even, if he Googled it.

They get everything done on their list for that day, including ordering the windows and carpet. By the time they’ve finished off a pizza for dinner later that night and kill even more time watching Netflix together on Cas’s couch, Dean knows he’s going to be spending a lot of time with Cas.

When Dean’s finished installing the carpet on Tuesday, he offers to come over and help paint before work the next day. Cas gets paint all over his face and Dean makes fun of him for it, which earns him a stripe of paint down the middle of his back. Cas makes him a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch to make up for ruining his shirt, and it’s damn good, even if he doesn’t seem particularly sorry. Dean goes back the day after that to help paint the next room anyway, and Cas comes to hang out at The Roadhouse the night after that. He stays for hours, and Dean has more fun at work laughing with him and Jo, his co-worker/honorary little sister, than he’s had in forever.

On Saturday, they don’t see each other for the first time since they met, and since it’s almost two in the morning when he gets home he knows he can’t exactly swing by and say hi. He realizes he feels a little off without being able to shoot the shit with Cas today, and he’s gotten so used to his company over the last week he even feels a little lonely in his apartment for the first time in a long time. He hasn’t had a good buddy to hang out with (other than Sam) since Benny moved away a few years ago, and he didn’t know he was missing it as much as he was until Cas came along. He does his best to shake the feeling off, and when he’s in bed a little while later after rubbing one out, he decides he needs to get laid.

The next night he makes sure he gets a chick to hang around until close, and then he talks her into the back seat of his car before he drives her home. He tries to tell himself he feels better, but the truth is he still feels a bit off when he climbs into his empty bed again that night. He only manages to fall asleep after he convinces himself to give Cas a call the next day so he can get a fix of his new friend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s been three weeks since Dean and Castiel met, and they’ve been hanging out almost every day except for the few nights when Dean goes out to pick up a chick to hook up with. Dean’s happy hanging out with Cas; he feels lighter somehow just to have somebody to go chill with to fill his days and have company in a way he hasn't had since he and Sam stopped living together.

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Dean’s over at Cas’s place before he has to leave for his shift that night, when his cell phone rings.

“Hey bitch,” he says to Sam on the other end of the phone.

“Did you move or something and not tell me?” Sam replies without preamble.

“Uh, no?”

“Dean, I’ve stopped by your place three times in the last few weeks and you’re literally never home. Where the hell are you?” Sam demands.

“I’m at my buddy’s place. I told you about Cas, didn’t I?” He shares a shy smile with Cas, feeling kind of awkward about talking about him when he’s right there.

“The guy you met at the bar a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah, the loser in the trench coat,” he says, earning an elbow from Cas and making him laugh.

“Right,” Sam says, dragging the word out. “Well do you wanna get together tomorrow or something then?”

“Why don’t you come by Cas’s place? We’re just hanging out,” Dean offers, checking Cas’s face for permission, which he gets in the form of an eye roll but also a nod.

“Are you sure I won’t be interrupting?”

Dean pulls a face. “Don’t be stupid, Sammy.”

“It’s  _Sam_ ,” Sam corrects automatically. “You said he bought the blue house by the bar, right?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, I’ll be over soon then. Thanks, Dean,” Sam says earnestly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean answers. “Later.”

Dean ends the call and puts his cell phone back on Cas’s coffee table in front of them. “You don’t mind if he comes over for a bit?”

Castiel shrugs. “No, not at all. I feel like I already know him fairly well just from how often you talk about him. It will be nice to put a face to a name.” He waits a beat and then says, “Not that you really gave me much of a choice, inviting him here without asking me first.”

Dean grins. “Yeah, I’m a jerk like that.”

“I’ve noticed,” Castiel says easily.

Dean knows Cas doesn’t really think he’s a jerk though. He wouldn’t keep wanting to hang out with him if he did. It’s kinda weird, but he already feels like Cas just accepts him exactly the way he is and he doesn’t need to apologize for it. If Dean comes over and doesn't want to do anything but eat Cas’s junk food and watch TV silently, Cas sits with him and reads a book. If Dean’s in a chatty mood, Cas seems happy to just sit there and listen to whatever he says. The best part is Cas doesn’t try to make Dean talk about how he feels like Sam always does. Dean can just say what he wants to say and not say what he doesn’t want to say, and it’s no big deal.

Funnily enough, though, not being pressured into talking about that kind of shit makes him open up more. Dean’s already told Cas more about his mom and dad and the way they died than he’s told people he’s been friends with for years. Not that it was some kind of sappy heart to heart Hallmark moment or anything. It just came out, and Cas put a hand on Dean’s arm and said he was sorry for his loss, and that was it. Dean appreciates that about Cas.

Everything is just  _easy_ with him.

So that doesn’t really explain why Dean’s suddenly nervous about Cas and Sam meeting. Of course, Cas picks up on it.

Cas places his hand on Dean’s jiggling knee and arches his brows questioningly. As usual, Cas's touch has a calming effect on him. Not that they touch a lot or anything. Just normal friend stuff. Dean smiles at him, thanking him silently. Cas turns back to the TV but leaves his hand where it is. Dean reluctantly pushes it away a few minutes later. He can’t deny that he feels this... pull towards Cas, and his touch  _is_ comforting, but he has to be careful not to lead him on or whatever. He isn't into him like that. They’re just close friends.

“If I come over tomorrow it probably won’t be until late,” Dean says to Cas.

“That’s fine. You’re closing tonight, so I figured as much anyway.”

“Yeah, plus I’m gonna see if I can get somebody to wait for me afterwards,” he says with a grin.

“Okay,” Castiel answers.

“You uh, want me to put some feelers out for a dude for you? I don’t know any other gay guys, but Charlie probably will.”

“Right, because all gay people know each other, you know,” Castiel says dryly.

“Fine, have fun with your hand then. Whatever,” Dean replies.

Cas just makes an amused little sound in his throat like he knows something Dean doesn’t. Dean pretends it doesn’t drive him crazy.

“You’re off tomorrow, correct?” Castiel asks.

“Plannin’ on it, yeah,” Dean responds. With him being the owner, he never really plans much, knowing he could get called in for pretty much anything at any time.

“Good. I like your days off because then I don’t have to eat alone,” Castiel remarks.

Dean gives him a smile, knowing exactly how he feels, and then they go back to watching the TV.

Dean hears Sam’s car pull into the driveway and shoots him a look. “Here we go,” he says.

Sam knocks on the front door and Cas goes to get up but Dean throws his arm out to stop him. “Come in!” he hollers.

Castiel gets to his feet anyway and meets Sam in the hallway. “Sorry about Dean,” Dean can hear him say. “I'm Castiel. Please come in.”

“Thanks, Castiel. Don't worry about Dean’s manners. I'm used to it,” Sam says, coming in the living room behind him. Castiel sits beside Dean where he was only a minute before, but with a little bit more space between them. Sam sits in the recliner that's next to Dean.

“How's it goin’, loser?” Dean asks Sam.

Sam completely ignores Dean’s insult and answers, “Fine. What are you guys doing?”

“Nothin’ really. Just hanging out,” Dean tells him. Sam looks confused, but nods. “What’s Jess doing that you’re trying to get away from?”

Sam’s face cracks on a grin. “Rage cleaning.”

Dean chuckles, “Did you piss her off?”

“Thankfully, it wasn’t me. Something at work. But I know enough by now to make myself scarce when she starts that,” Sam says wisely.

“How long have you and Jess been together?” Castiel asks.

“Since high school,” Sam answers with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s really nice,” Castiel smiles in response. “I’ve always been soft on the idea of high school sweethearts.”

“What happened to yours?” Dean asks Cas.

Castiel laughs bitterly. “I wasn’t out in high school, so though there were a few stolen kisses here and there, there was certainly no great love story for me during that time.”

Dean notices how Sam doesn’t even blink when Cas alludes to himself being gay. “How about now? Did you move here to live with your partner?” Sam asks.

“Oh, no,” Castiel answers quickly. “There hasn’t been anybody like that for me in a very long time. Apparently I’m hard to please.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Dean replies. “No use settling down with one person where there’s a billion people out in the world anyway.”

Cas frowns. “I don’t agree with that.”

Dean shrugs. “You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I’ve been telling Dean he’s wrong for sleeping with the entire city instead of trying to find himself a nice girl for years. He’s not getting any younger. I guess there might be something - something fun about sleeping with strangers, but for me, it’s only ever been Jess and I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Sam declares.

“I think that’s admirable,” Castiel says honestly.

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, “Can we be done with the chick flick shit now?”

Sam looks at him in annoyance, then turns to Cas. “Dean’s practically allergic to talking about his feelings.”

Cas’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Really?”

“Trust me,” Sam says with a chuckle. “Try to get him to talk about anything with substance or feelings, and he deflects with a joke or pretends he doesn’t hear you at all.”

Cas turns to look at Dean, and they share a significant look between the two of them. Dean knows Cas well enough by now to know the crease between his eyebrows means he’s confused, and Dean gets why. He has no problems talking to Cas about important shit, but Cas had no idea that was out of character for Dean until now. Dean doesn’t want to say anything in front of Sam about it because he knows Sam won’t let it go and Sam’ll just end up pissing him off. Dean shakes his head the tiniest little bit, hoping Cas will understand not to say anything.

“Are you guys having a staring contest or something?” Sam laughs.

Dean turns away, but not before he sees the blush spread on Cas’s face.

“I will keep that in mind,” Castiel says, finally answering Sam.

“Please don’t, you know, take this the wrong way,” Sam begins, “but the inside of this place is a lot nicer than the outside led me to believe it would be.”

Castiel smiles. “Yes, well, it’s in much better shape now than it was when I moved in.”

“Really? Did you fix it all up yourself?” Sam asks.

Cas flicks his eyes to Dean’s face again before answers, “No, Dean actually did most of it.”

“C’mon. That’s bull, you did just as much as me,” Dean argues.

“Only because you showed me what to do,” Castiel replies.

“Wait - you got Dean to volunteer to help you do something?” Sam says in amazement.

Dean gives him the finger. “I’ve helped you and Jess move twice in two years. I fix both of your piece of shit cars every other week, I fuckin’ cooked for you every damn day we lived together,  _and_ you eat free in my restaurant. So screw you, Samantha. I help you guys all the time.”

“Can I eat free, too?” Castiel asks quickly, and Sam laughs.

“You said my food is shit. You pay as punishment,” Dean reminds him.

“Most of it  _is_ shit,” Castiel maintains.

Sam grins. “That’s why we don’t eat there very often even though it’s free.”

“That’s not what you told me,” Dean remembers.

“I wasn’t going to insult my brother’s business,” Sam explains.

Dean shoots Cas a look. “Not everybody’s as big of an asshole as Cas, I guess.”

“That’s probably why we get along so well,” Cas says without missing a beat, making Dean smile. He loves when Cas isn’t afraid to give back what he gets from him.

“What kind of stuff did you have to fix up?” Sam asks, giving the living room a closer inspection.

Dean focuses back on the TV while Cas explains what they did around the house. He gives Dean all the credit, and Dean has to intervene a few times to disagree, but mostly, he lets the two of them talk.

Sam draws him back into the conversation a little while later with, “So I bet you’re pretty pumped about having Valentine’s Day off this year, huh, Dean?”

Valentine’s Day isn’t for another three weeks and Dean hasn’t even looked at his schedule that far in advance, but if Sam says he’s off, he’ll take him at his word. He lets a smile spread across his face. “You know it.”

“Oh, do you have a big date you’re looking forward to?” Castiel asks. And there’s that weird blank look on Cas’s face Dean usually only sees when he talks about getting laid, but Dean just ignores it like he always does.

He waits for Sam to stop laughing obnoxiously before he answers, “No way, man. I don’t date. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.”

Castiel tilts his head slightly to the side. “You have some other Valentine’s Day tradition, then?”

“Yeah, Dean likes to call it ‘Unattached Drifter Christmas’, if that gives you a clue,” Sam explains.

Understanding dawns on Castiel’s face. “You find single women to sleep with on Valentine’s Day?”

“Not  _women_ ,” Dean disagrees. “Just one lucky lady per year.”

“I fail to see how Valentine’s Day differs from any other weekend for you, then,” Castiel remarks.

“Picking up chicks on Valentine’s Day is easier than any other day. I barely have to walk into a bar before a bunch of them are throwing themselves at me.”

“Because they’re lonely on Valentine’s Day,” Sam explains to Cas.

Castiel seems to search Dean’s face for the truth, and then looks away with an annoyed look on his face. Dean bristles. Whatever. Cas doesn’t get a say in his sex life.

“I’m doing them a service,” he tries, grinning at himself.

“Here we go,” Sam returns under his breath.

“Seriously! These chicks go out to get drunk because they feel bad about themselves for being alone on Valentine’s Day. They think they’re ugly or fat or old or no man wants them or some other shit, and then I come along, tell them how hot they are, and make them feel really, really good.”

“And then never see them again,” Sam finishes.

“I never  _say_ I’m gonna see them again. They know that. It’s just sex.” Dean tries to catch Cas’s eye and grins, “Really  _good_ sex, ‘cause it’s with me, but still just sex. Hey! You could come with me,” Dean offers Cas. “I can be your wing man.”

“Not that I would ever play on anybody’s emotions the way you clearly do at least annually, but even if I  _did_ decide to stoop to that level, I doubt I’d find a single gay man looking to pick up at any bar you’re planning on going to,” Castiel replies, voice hard.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You and Sam should start a ‘Dean Winchester’s A Disgusting Pig Club,’” he says, both hating the idea that Cas thinks so little of him and trying to pretend like it doesn’t matter.

“That would be a waste of time considering I don’t believe that would influence your behavior in the slightest,” Castiel immediately shoots back.

Sam huffs a small laugh. “Got it in one.”

“Though for the record, I don’t think you’re a disgusting pig. If I didn’t already know you and I heard this, then maybe, but I know you better than that.  _I_ wouldn’t be happy sleeping with somebody who’s feeling vulnerable and then never seeing them again, but clearly you enjoy it, and as long as you don’t hurt anybody than I don’t think there’s anything morally wrong with that.”

“Gee, Cas, I’m so glad you approve of my sex life,” Dean says sarcastically.

“It’s just important to me that you understand I don’t think badly of you. You’re one of the best people I know,” Castiel says earnestly.

Dean feels himself blush a little bit and gets up to grab himself a soda from the fridge to get away from it. “You gotta switch to Pepsi,” he says as he walks back into the room.

“So you’ve told me. Multiple times,” Castiel reminds him.

“I’m just gonna buy some next time I go out and leave it here. This shit tastes like fake sugar,” Dean complains, but he takes a long drink anyway.

“And if anybody knows what sugar tastes like, it’s definitely Dean,” Sam agrees.

“I’ve noticed that he’s passionate enough about pie that I have begun to wonder if he has some sort of fetish,” Castiel remarks.

“Hey Dean, if you had to choose between pie or sex, what would you choose?” Sam asks, making Castiel laugh.

“No need to choose, little brother. Just put the two together,” Dean says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Castiel laughs but Sam makes a face of disgust. “Hey, you asked!”

“Terrible lack of judgement on my part,” Sam comments.

“I love when he does that because then I get to freak him out,” Dean smiles at Cas.

“I wish I could use that on my brothers. Gabriel especially has way too much interest in my sex life. The best part about being away from him is that he isn’t trying to set me up with every gay man in the surrounding area,” Castiel divulges.

“I get why he’d do that though. Not like you’re out looking for yourself,” Dean says.

“I don’t like hunting for a partner. If I come across somebody I’m interested in, I will approach them and ask them out. Until then, I don’t mind waiting,” Castiel explains.

“‘Specially now that you’d have to explain this hot guy who comes over all the time and eats all your food,” Dean teases him.

“I’d just lock my door and let you starve,” Castiel threatens, and Sam laughs.

“Sounds like he’s thought about it before,” Sam says, grinning at Dean.

“I’m sure you know how irritating he can be better than even I do,” Castiel responds.

“Screw you both. You know I’m awesome,” Dean retorts.

Sam’s reply is cut off when Dean’s phone starts ringing.

“It’s The Roadhouse,” Dean grumbles before he answers. “Yeah? Shit. Okay, I’ll be right there.” He ends the call and looks at Cas and Sam while he gets to his feet. “I gotta take off. Somethin’ wrong with the fridge in the back.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Castiel asks, also standing.

Dean reaches out to give his shoulder a little squeeze and smiles at him. “Thanks, buddy, but I think you’d probably just break it more.”

Castiel sighs but with a big smile on his face, and Dean lets his hand brush his arm before it drops completely. He’s a little bummed he can’t stay longer and touching Cas always brings him comfort for some reason. Probably because they get along so well or somethin’.

“I’ll follow you. I could go for some free sub par food right about now,” Sam teases.

“Oh sure,  _now_ he wants to eat my food,” Dean gripes, making his way to the door. “I’ll swing by tomorrow, yeah?” Dean says to Castiel.

“I was thinking about making lasagna for dinner,” Castiel says in response.

“I’ll definitely be here then. I’ll come over when you get off work to make sure you don’t skimp on the cheese. See ya later, buddy,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at Dean with his eyes, and Dean can’t help but really smile back in return. Then Cas turns to Sam and says, “It was nice meeting you, Sam. Feel free to stop by anytime.”

“If Dean’s over here eating your food all the time it doesn’t sound like I’ll have much of a choice,” Sam answers. “It was nice meeting you too, Cas. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

Dean pulls the front door open and gives a wave over his shoulder as he pounds down the stairs. He and Sam climb into their cars and drive the short distance to The Roadhouse. When they park there, Sam follows him into the kitchen, and Dean takes a look at the fridge. The two of them pull it away from the wall and Dean is down on his hands and knees checking things out when Sam starts on him.

“So?” Sam questions.

Dean huffs. “So what, Sammy?”

“ _Sam_ ,” Sam corrects. “How come you never told me you spend every day at Castiel’s house now?”

Dean gives him a flat look. “It’s not every day,” he hedges. “And you’re not the boss of me. Since when do I have to report my location?”

“Don’t get defensive, I was just asking,” Sam replies.

“You don’t  _just ask_ shit, Sam, there’s always something whirling in that giant head of yours.”

“Okay fine. Did you - did you know he was gay?” Sam asks.

“‘Course I knew he was gay. He hit on me ten minutes after we met,” Dean grins.

“Before he got to know you then,” Sam says quickly and Dean swats at him blindly. “Didn’t really figure you for the kinda guy who’d be okay with that kind of thing. Thought you’d be more like dad was.”

“What the fuck? I’m not a bigot, Sam. I could care less where Cas sticks his dick as long as I don’t have to see it,” Dean tells him. Though really, the thought of Cas fucking somebody makes him strangely uncomfortable. Maybe he’s not as okay with the gay thing as he wants to believe?

“Good, I’m glad I was wrong about that, then,” Sam says. “You uh, obviously turned him down when he hit on you though? He knows you’re straight?”

Dean finally takes his attention away from the back of the fridge to really look at his brother. “You’re annoying as fuck, but you ain’t stupid. Why’re you asking me stupid questions?”

Sam gives him the classic Sam Bitch Face. “You’re not stupid either! You have to see the way he looks at you.”

“Everybody looks at me like that. I’m a fine piece of ass, Sammy,” Dean dismisses him, getting back to work.

“He  _likes_  you,” Sam presses.

“So what?” Dean scoffs. “I told him I don’t swing that way, and he knows I fuck whoever I want whenever I want. If he has a crush on me - and I’m not even saying he does - then who cares? Doesn’t change anything.”

“He seems, I don’t know, like a nice guy, you know? Just make sure you don’t - you don’t  _flirt with him_ like you do everybody else. I don’t want you to lead him on and - and, I dunno, hurt him or something down the road,” Sam says kindly.

“He’s a good dude. I wouldn't do that to him. I’m not  _that_ big of a dick.”

“Okay, I’m just sayin’. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Sam replies.

“Ah ha! Got it, you son of a bitch,” Dean says as he reconnects the same tube that’s fallen off half a dozen times now. “Help me push this back in,” Dean tells Sam. They do, and Dean plugs it back in and starts washing his hands at the sink.

“I’m going to go bug Jo while you clean up,” Sam says, and then he heads out the door towards the bar.

Finishing with his hands, Dean walks out to the bar and purposely doesn’t give Sam’s stupid warning another thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The weeks pass quickly, and before Dean knows it, it’s his day off again and Valentine’s Day. Cas is at work, but Dean texts him when he wakes up.

**DEAN** : Last chance to change your mind and come out with me tonight :D  
**CAS** : If you could see me right now, you’d know I’m rolling my eyes at you.  
**DEAN** : They really need an emoji for that.  
**DEAN** : Seriously though, it’d be fun if you came.  
**CAS** : I highly doubt that. Besides, I’m used to sitting home alone and hating myself on Valentine’s Day. Why break tradition now.

Dean feels something wrench inside of him when he thinks about Cas sitting at home alone feeling sad. It would bother him to know any of his friends were feeling like that, but Cas, who has quickly become his best friend, sitting at home moping on Valentine’s Day is not somethin’ Dean’s gonna let go.

**DEAN** : I don’t gotta go out til late. I could be persuaded into eating something you cook for me :P  
**CAS** : lol I’m ordering in Chinese. But I could be persuaded to get enough for two if you want to slum it with me before you go?  
**DEAN** : Nobody I’d rather slum it with bud :) I’ll meet you at your place.  
**CAS** : Thank you, Dean :)

Dean rolls his eyes at that, feeling slightly uncomfortable. It’s not a big deal. He has to eat anyway, and if he can help Cas feel less like a loner, then why wouldn’t he?

He runs a few errands and ends up picking up everything he needs to make a cherry pie when he’s at the grocery store. When he gets home, he gets down to it, and by the time he’s finished baking and cleaning up after himself it’s 4:30. He knows he’s going to be drinking tonight, so he calls himself a cab and grabs the two six packs he picked up for him and Cas, barely managing to carry the pie, too, before he heads out to meet Cas at his place.

He beats Cas there, so he lets himself in the back door that Cas always leaves unlocked for him, puts the pie in the oven on warm, and throws the beer in the fridge. He grabs one for himself and then goes to make himself comfortable on Cas’s couch.

It’s not long at all before Dean hears Cas’s crappy car pull into the driveway. He hears him come up the few stairs, then the jiggle of his keys before he unlocks the front door, and Dean looks at the space past the wall he’s expecting Cas to walk past. He hears a metal clang that confuses him, and the next thing he knows, he sees Cas walk into the hallway in his boxer briefs.

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean says.

Cas jumps in surprise and places a hand on his chest. “You scared the shit out of me,” Castiel responds. “I didn’t know you were here. Where’s your car?”

Dean’s eyes naturally take in the exposed skin of Cas’s legs. What the hell is with those thighs? Dean’s never noticed how thick they are with muscle before. What kind of exercises would you even do to get thighs like that? The tight boxer briefs leave very little to the imagination, and while Dean can’t help but notice there seems to be a sizable bulge nestled inside of them, his gaze doesn’t linger.

“Dean,” Castiel says again, and Dean starts blushing when he realizes he was too busy staring to answer him. “Where’s Baby?”

Dean clears his throat awkwardly and picks non-existent lint off of his shirt instead of looking at Cas in the face. “I took a cab over. Knew I’d be drinking tonight, so I didn’t want to drive. I let myself in the back door.”

“Can you let me know next time so I don’t come in and drop my pants at the door?” Castiel says dryly. Dean nods, still not looking at him. “I’ll be right back.”

When Cas turns around, Dean lifts his eyes to see where he’s going and gets an eyeful of the way Cas’s boxers hug his ass before he turns to walk up the stairs. Dean buries his face in his hands and takes several deep breaths. He’s seen Sam, and Benny, and a ton of dudes in the locker room in high school in boxers - or sometimes even less - so why is he so flustered by seeing Cas in his? Probably just because he wasn’t expecting to see that. It’s different because Cas didn’t know that Dean was going to see him in his boxers. Yeah. That makes sense.

Dean takes a long gulp of his beer and turns on the TV to take his mind away from how embarrassing the last few minutes have been. When Cas comes back down the stairs, he’s dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He grabs a beer for himself from the fridge and comes to join Dean on the couch. Even though it’s a big couch, Cas sits right next to him the way he always does, and Dean smiles over at him, forcing himself not to feel awkward.

“How was work?” Dean asks.

Castiel shrugs. “Kind of a shit show, actually. A client brought in his receipts inside of a used pizza box today, and I was the lucky worker bee who got to go through it and put them all in order.”

Dean makes a face of disgust. “Well that’s fuckin’ gross.”

Castiel snorts. “Yeah, it really was. We’ve gotten receipts in weird things before, but nothing compared to this. I saw Charlie at lunch today, by the way.”

“Yeah? She talk your ear off?”

“Naturally,” Cas smiles. “We ran into each other right outside the office so we walked down to get our subs together. She has a fancy date planned tonight with a girl she met online. Did you know about that?”

“Nope, she hasn’t mentioned that at all. Which is weird, because Charlie texts me about a new girl every other day. She might be worse than I am,” Dean jokes.

“I doubt that very much,” Castiel replies with a smile on his face. “She had this soft look in her eyes when she was telling me about her. I think she really likes her.”

“Good for her,” Dean comments sincerely. “Hope it works out for her.”

“What’d you do today?” Cas asks Dean.

“Nothin’ exciting. Went to the bank, did some groceries, swung by Bobby’s to change Baby’s oil -”

“I knew that. I can smell oil or grease or whatever it is on you,” Castiel teases.

“That’s just the natural manliness I exude,” Dean shoots back.

“I’m sure the girls at the bar later will find it very sexy,” Castiel assures him.

“By the time I get there I’m gonna smell like egg rolls and pie,” Dean disagrees.

Castiel’s eyes light up. “You made pie?”

Dean grins. “Yeah, man. Was in the mood to bake.”

“What kind is it?”

“Cherry,” Dean tells him.

Castiel’s pink tongue comes out to lick his lips lavishly, and then he says, “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Dean snorts. “C’mon, you had to’ve had at least one decent Valentine’s Day?”

Castiel shakes his head. “Not a single one. I actually hate this poor excuse of a holiday. Usually I’m fine with being alone, and I know I’ll meet the right person eventually, but I’m always miserable about being alone today.”

Dean gives him a little shove with his elbow. “Sittin’ right here, Cas. You’re not alone this time.”

Cas smiles at him with his eyes, and Dean feels that pull towards him again which he satisfies by leaning his shoulder against Cas’s for now. “I know you don’t particularly like the ‘chick flick moments’ as you say, but I still want to tell you how much it means to me that you came over tonight. I know you’d probably rather be somewhere else, but it’s nice to not be alone.”

Dean feels warmth spread inside of him, knowing that he made his friend happy. “You know I’m just here for the food, man,” he says, trying to deflect the inevitable conversation about feelings.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “I hate when you refuse to acknowledge what a good man you are.”

“Thought you thought I’m a dick,” Dean reminds him.

“I do. You’re the only person I know who manages to be both on a regular basis,” Castiel replies.

Dean smirks. “Tellin’ me I’m one of a kind, Cas?”

Cas’s face is deadly serious when he answers, “Yes.”

Dean looks down at the beer bottle in his hand. He’s used to getting compliments about his looks or his body, or even how good he is in bed. But somebody saying something nice about the kind of person he is? That’s all-new territory for Dean, and he finds that he feels just as good about it as he feels uncomfortable with Cas thinking so much of him.

“C’mon man, you know me better than that.”

Cas nudges himself against Dean’s shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

Dean scoffs. “We both know I ain't nothin’ special. I work at a bar, barely finished high school, never went to college. Never had a real relationship in my life because I’m too busy screwing around. My dad thought I was a disappointment every time I breathed too loudly, and until you came along, I couldn’t even make a decent friend. I know I don’t have anything goin’ for me but a pretty face.” He lifts his beer to his mouth and swallows down the remainder of the can in one long pull.

“If I ever heard anybody else talk about you like that I’d punch their lights out,” Castiel says, his voice hard. “I won’t let you talk about yourself like that either. Almost nothing you just said is the whole truth, and don’t you ever imply that I think you’re anything like the man you just described to me again.”

“Jeeze. Relax,” Dean says, feeling uncomfortable all over again.

“You _own_ a bar, you don’t just work at one. You didn’t go to college because you were too busy working to help put your brother through it instead. You don’t have a relationship because you don’t want one, not because you’re undesirable. I could probably make a line of women from my house to your bar who would jump at the chance to be your girlfriend because of who you are, not what you look like. Everything I’ve ever heard about your father leads me to believe his opinion should count for absolutely nothing since he obviously didn’t know you at all. And as for having no friends, I think Charlie, Jo, and Garth would disagree with that.”

“Woo hoo. I have four friends. I’m obviously a fucking gem,” Dean grumbles, looking straight ahead at the TV instead of looking at Cas.

“Three more than I have,” Castiel reminds him. “So if you’re a gem, I must be… coal,” he finishes somewhat lamely.

“I’m talkin’ about me, not you,” Dean argues.

“It doesn’t work like that. If you’re a terrible person for not being able to keep friendships or relationships, then I am, too.”

“You just haven’t met anybody here yet. It’s not easy to find openly gay dudes in Texas. But anybody’d wanna be with you,” Dean says. He realizes it’s probably true and feels a rush of fear thinking about the day when Cas does find somebody and isn’t able to hang out with him all the time anymore.

He hears himself say, “You know you’re my best friend, right?” He looks over at him instead of at the TV. “I mean, if we’re gonna have a moment or whatever the fuck we’re doin’, then you should know I think you’re pretty much the coolest guy I know. I’ve never been as comfortable with anybody outside of family as I am with you. Hangin’ out with you, makes me feel, ya know, good or whatever. In a no homo kinda way,” he adds with a grin.

“If I didn’t think you’d punch me I’d hug you,” Castiel says, grinning back at him. “I won’t get too sappy on you, Dean, but thank you. You’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had, and I’m glad I walked into your bar that night a few months ago and choked down that terrible burger.”

“Oh, screw you,” Dean laughs, never failing to be insulted when Cas insults his food. He slaps his hand down on Cas’s knee and gives it a too-tight squeeze, eliciting a pained gasp from Cas, before he gets to his feet to get himself another beer.

When he comes back, they end up pressed shoulder to shoulder again, which is closer than how they usually sit but doesn’t feel weird. They order their food, and they land on a TV channel that’s playing _Friends_ reruns when they wait for it to show up. They make a deal that Cas takes a drink every time Ross whines, and Dean takes a drink every time Chandler makes a joke, and the beer starts disappearing quickly.

They eat their food out of the cartons when it gets delivered, and Cas aims his puppy dog eyes at Dean to get him to give up the last eggroll. After they digest their food, Dean grabs the pie, and they eat that straight outta the pan too, trying to knock each other’s forks away while fighting over the pieces that have the crust. The beer probably makes it funnier than it is, but the two of them laugh so hard at Dean’s surprised reaction when Cas actually jabs the back of Dean’s hand with his fork that they have to wipe away their tears. They both have permanent smiles on their faces, and the beer keeps flowing.

Some time later, Castiel stretches and yawns, and that’s when he says, “You should prob’ly get going soon. All the sad and vulnerable women will be gone if you wait much longer.”

Dean flicks his eyes up to the clock mounted on the wall and squints to make sure he’s reading it right. It’s almost eleven. “What the hell? When did it get so late?”

“You prob’ly started losing track of time when you stole my beer after you finished yours, ya dirty thief,” Cas laughs, slurring his words a little.

“Not my fault you were getting all giggly and clingy on four beers, lightweight,” Dean teases.

“You’re my best friend, Dean, I like being close to you,” Castiel gushes.

“Okay, buddy,” Dean laughs. “Keep your hands above the belt and we’ll get by just fine,” Dean answers, causing Cas to start giggling all over again.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you dunno how good I am with my hands,” Castiel replies, with what Dean is sure is supposed to be a flirtatious wink.

Unfortunately for him, he can’t seem to keep either eye open, which causes him to look like he’s just blinking weirdly.

Dean can’t hold in the laugh that comes out of him. “Okay, porn star, let’s get you some water before I put you to bed.”

Castiel laughs again. “Woooo! Finally not goin’ ta bed alone on Valentine’s Day!” he exclaims.

Dean chuckles and pulls him to his feet. He’s actually steadier than Dean thought he would be, but the two of them still stumble gracelessly to the kitchen together. Dean fills a glass of water for Cas and makes him drink it all down, then refills it and empties it himself. Cas presses himself against the wall as they make their way slowly up the stairs.

Dean steers him towards the bathroom attached to his bedroom and says, “Do what you gotta do in there, and I’m usin’ a pair of your pajama bottoms.”

He closes the door behind him and opens two drawers of his dresser before he finds his pajamas. He grabs a pair, glances over his shoulder, drops his pants and boxers and steps into them quickly, He pulls open another drawer and grabs a t-shirt. He pulls his button-up shirt up over his head, and that’s when he hears the bathroom door open.

He turns to check on Cas, and the fucker whistles at him before he dissolves in a fit of laughter.

“You are such a loser,” Dean says dryly, popping his head through the hole of the t-shirt. “I’m borrowing some clothes to sleep in.”

“Anytime you want in my clothes you just hafta ask,” Castiel says, grinning, and Dean doesn’t know if that was supposed to be another flirtation or not, so he ignores it.

“You can sleep in what you’re wearing. I’m gonna take a leak and then I’ll be back to make sure you can make it under the covers on your own,” Dean tells him.

When Dean comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Cas is just sitting on the edge of the bed. “You doin’ alright there, buddy?”

“I’m okay. Feelin’ a bit better after the water, I think. I was just waiting for you,” Castiel answers.

“I’m uh, gonna go sleep on the couch,” Dean says, “If you don’t mind.”

Castiel frowns. “I have a king sized bed, Dean. There’s a buncha space for both of us.”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you, dude.”

“Why not? You’ve never slept in the same bed as a friend at a hotel or something?” Cas questions.

“Well yeah, but -”

“If you say it’s because I’m gay I’m going to clock you,” Castiel interrupts, pointing a finger at him.

Dean feels a blush rise to his cheeks. “You fuckin’ whistled at me five minutes ago.”

“I was _joking_ , you dick. But fine. Be a homophobic jerk, and enjoy your back pain for the next three months from sleeping stubbornly on my couch while I enjoy my giant, comfortable bed and my scary gay thoughts. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get ready for work,” Castiel says getting in under the covers. “Hit the light on your way out.”

Dean sighs loudly. He knows he can’t not share a bed with Cas now and not look like a fucking douche bag. He hits the light and walks towards the bed. “That’s the side I sleep on,” Dean says gruffly.

“I don’t think that matters if you’re goin’ ta sleep on the couch,” Castiel replies without looking at him.

“Roll the fuck over,” Dean insists, and Cas does. He stays facing Dean, and Dean stays on his back, feeling those blue eyes piercing him through the dark. “We never talk about this again,” Dean says as he rearranges the blankets.

“If anybody asks, I’ll tell them you had a very straight Valentine’s Day orgy.”

Dean laughs despite himself. “Go to bed. You have to work in the morning.”

Dean closes his own eyes, and is quickly lulled into a state of semi-consciousness by the familiar smell of Castiel and a warm body beside him for the first time in as long as he can remember.

He’s startled several minutes later when he hears Cas whisper, “Dean?”

“Yeah?” he says, matching Cas’s whisper.

“Thanks for staying with me tonight. This is the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had. You’re a really good friend.”

Dean doesn’t think about it before he scooches over a little closer to Cas so that Cas’s bent knees rest against his legs. The touch soothes him, and he smiles softly before he responds, “Yeah, me too, Cas. Night, buddy.”

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the weeks fly by and February turns to mid-March, Dean and Cas spend more and more time together, and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever laughed so much in his life. He finally introduces him to Jess, and when her and Sam, Jo and Charlie all hang out a few times, it doesn’t surprise him in the least that they all get along as well as he and Cas do. Not for the first time, Dean thinks there’s just something about Cas that draws people in. He can't be the only one who feels it.

Since they spend so much time together, he ends up finding out all this little shit about Cas. How he only drinks Coke products instead of Pepsi. He’s a grouchy little shit first thing in the morning, and every time he gets drunk, he’s all sappy with Dean. He drinks more coffee than anybody he’s ever known. No matter what he does to his hair, it's always a mess an hour later. He hardly ever folds his laundry, instead choosing to just take what he needs from the dryer until he has to start another load. He’s an awesome cook and makes the second best spaghetti sauce he’s ever eaten. He’s pretty sure Cas still thinks he’s pretty hot, and Dean finds it kinda hilarious that he’s been hanging out with the dude for almost three months now and he can still make him blush when he winks at him. You’d think it’d wear off or something.

Not that Dean’s getting used to Cas, either. If anything, he thinks he’s a little bit cooler every time they hang out. He can’t get over how they almost never run out of shit to talk about, or how whenever they do, it’s just easy. Kinda like how it is with him and Sam, but cooler because it’s never been like this with him and any other friends of his before. He likes hanging out with Cas. He just feels better whenever they’re together. More like himself, and not so lonely anymore. Cas makes him feel like he’s smart, and funny, and since he likes helping out around Cas’s house, it makes him feel useful and needed like he hasn’t since he and Sam lived together. For the first time in his life, somebody makes him feel like he’s more than just a pretty face or a guy who owns some lame bar.

They don’t ever talk about Valentine’s Day. Dean tries not to think about how he woke up with a small smile on his face and Cas’s head on his shoulder and his arm around Dean’s waist... and Cas’s boner against his hip. He doesn’t think about the way it made his heart race and how even though he knew he should push him away, he didn’t. Cas apologized several times when he finally woke up and realized the state he was in, but Dean told him it wasn’t a big deal. He tells Cas he knows he was drunk, and he himself actually slept really well, which is true. Cas tries apologizing several times more, his face beet red every single time, but finally Dean tells him it’d be easier for him if they just forget about it, so of course, Cas doesn’t bring it up again.

Even though they don’t talk about it, he doesn’t forget the warmth he felt inside of him waking up next to Cas, either. As the weeks pass, Dean gets more and more comfortable with the idea of accepting comfort from Cas, and he starts seeking it a little bit at a time. He just really likes the way he feels when he's with Cas. That’s probably how all best friends feel around each other, right? Girls hold hands and shit, so it’s not weird for Dean to want to be close to Cas. So they start sitting even closer together on the couch all the time, like they did on Valentine’s Day. They’re not cuddling or anything, because that would be gay, they just comfort one another. Like all friends do.

He makes sure to put the socially acceptable amount of distance between them whenever they’re with their friends or Sam, and Cas never closes the space between them, nor does he mention it. Maybe he doesn’t even notice. Who knows? They’ve never talked about it. Those times when he isn’t able to sit close to Cas like he wants to, like he freaking  _craves_ these days, he makes up for it by making sure he pats him on the shoulder a lot. Or ruffles his hair when he walks by. Gives the back of his neck a little squeeze. Anything to just be closer to him, to touch him, to make himself feel right again.

And as good as being close to Cas is, he thinks the best part is how happy it obviously makes Cas. Cas isn’t an overly smiley guy. His sense of humor is dry but witty, and he usually only smiles when he laughs. Dean’s gotten better at making him laugh as the months have gone by, but he still doesn’t smile all that much. So when Dean started noticing that Cas would smile at him when he touched him, it made Dean want to touch him even more. Even Sam’s commented on how cute Cas was when he smiles. It’s not just Dean who’s thought about it. So sue him for wanting to make his best friend happy. It’s what any good best friend would do.

He tells himself it’s all very normal. Nobody ever says anything about it to him, so it must not be a big deal. This is the way best friends are together, and he just hasn’t had one before outside of Sam. Everything is good. Everything is  _really_ good. Dean is happy in a way he’s never been in his life.

Which explains why Dean’s smiling about him, Cas, Sam, Jess, Charlie and Jo going out tonight to see  _G.I. Joe: Retaliation_. Dean’s swinging by to pick Cas up since he’s leaving from work anyway. Doesn’t make sense to bring two cars when Dean’s literally right there.

He knocks on the front door but when Cas doesn’t answer he just lets himself in anyway.

“Cas?” Dean yells.

He hears the shower running then, and realizes he’s a little early. So he takes his seat on the couch and flips on the TV to wait like he has dozens of times before. At this point, he’s just as comfortable in Cas’s house as he is in his own. When he hears the water turn off he yells up, “I’m here, so don’t come down naked or something.”

“I need my clothes from the dryer,” Cas shouts down.

“What do you need? I’ll throw them up,” Dean offers, getting out of his seat.

“Boxers and jeans,” Cas answers.

“Yeah, no fucking way am I touching your underwear, Cas. You’re on your own,” Dean says, and sits back down on the couch.

He hears Cas’s feet pounding down the stairs and his muffled complaints about Dean being a dick. Dean smirks, having heard this a hundred times at this point.

“Just make yourself at home in my house, why don’t you,” Cas says grumpily as he walks past. Dean turns away from the TV to answer but freezes when he sees Cas walking away from him down the hall wearing nothing but a towel swung around his hips. For as often as they’re together, Dean’s never seen Cas in less than a t-shirt and pajama pants, (except for that one embarrassing time when Cas was in his boxers) but none of that prepared him for how  _ripped_ Cas’s back is. Who knew his loser best friend had those kinds of muscles hidden under his clothes? He’s totally lost in his own thoughts, mentally going over any hints he might’ve missed about Cas’s back, and he doesn’t notice Cas is coming back towards him in a pair of jeans that are way too low on the guy’s hips until he’s basically standing right in front of him. The vee his hipbones make above the waistband of his jeans is fucking distracting. Dean works out often enough and even  _he_ doesn’t have abs like Cas. He’s a bookkeeper for fuck’s sake, when does he have time to do whatever he’s obviously doing to look this good?

“Do you want to take a picture or would you rather keep staring?” Castiel asks, clearly amused.

Dean feels himself blush and wants to die a little. “Fuck off and go put some clothes on, ya weirdo,” he answers, voice probably a little harder than it should have been.

Castiel just laughs and runs back up the stairs.

When Dean turns back around to face the TV he notices the brush of the fabric of his boxers against his half hard dick, and suddenly wants to die a lot more.

_What the fuck?_

Why is he getting hard after looking at his best friend’s bare chest? He’s secure enough to admit he was checking out his body, but it was in a completely not sexual way. He’d look at Sam’s body the same way, for god’s sake, but he sure as fuck wouldn’t have the situation going on in his pants right now if he was lookin’ at Sam.

Just… why?

He can feel his palms sweating and his heart pounding because  _he is not_ into dudes and he should not be having this kind of reaction to his best friend. But he is, and it isn't even the first time, and it’s freaking him out. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been laid in so long. Yeah. God, how long’s it been now? Two months? Three? Too frickin’ long, obviously. His brain probably saw naked skin and his dick just reacted the same way it does every time he gets somebody naked. It has nothing to do with Cas specifically, or the fact that he’s a dude.

His heart rate begins to slow as he nods to himself. Yeah. That’s all it was. Nothing to freak out about.

When Castiel comes back down the stairs a minute later in a t-shirt, Dean can smile genuinely at him like nothing happened. Because it had nothing to do with Cas. When they get to the movie theater and meet up with everybody else, Dean completely forgets about earlier. And when Castiel’s knee presses against his in the dark and Dean feels that warmth spread through him again, he feels like everything is really back to normal.

The reason he forgets about it entirely is likely due to Sam knocking the air out of his lungs with his offhanded question while he and Cas are climbing into his car after the movie.

“What time do you want to go tomorrow?” Sam asks him, looking awkward.

Dean frowns. “Where’re we goin’ again?” Apparently his memory is shit.

“The cemetery?” Sam says, puzzled.

Dean winces. “Right. Whenever’s good for you. Earlier the better I guess.”

“Let’s get lunch and then go,” Sam offers.

“Yeah, okay. You’re driving.”

Sam shoots him a look because they both know Sam’ll have to drive because Dean will already have been drinking. But he nods anyway. “I’ll come pick you up at noon.”

When Dean climbs into the car he can feel Castiel’s eyes on him.

“What was that all about?” Castiel asks.

And he might as well tell him, because he’s not gonna be hanging out with him tomorrow. “Tomorrow’s the, uh, anniversary of -" he has to stop to clear his throat “- my mom and dad.”

“The day they died?” Castiel asks softly.

Dean just nods.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel replies. And it isn’t like the empty  _I’m sorry_  Dean has come to expect from people. Castiel actually sounds like he’s sorry, and somehow that’s worse.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Dean grunts.

“Okay,” Castiel says simply. “What did you think about the movie?”

Dean shoots him a small, grateful smile before he shakes away the last few minutes and loses himself in the discussion about The Rock’s performance in the movie and how Cas thinks Channing Tatum is oh so dreamy. Dean thinks he’s a fucking douche.

The next day is as awful as it always is. Even with the help of a half dozen shots before he goes for lunch and a few swigs of the flask he has in his leather jacket on the way between the diner and the cemetery, seeing the cold, hard ground his parents are buried under always makes him feel more alone than he can handle.

He doesn’t say a word on the drive back despite Sam's nervous rambling, and the only thing he says when Sam pulls into the parking lot to drop him off is to go home to Jess. That he’ll be fine.

He isn’t fine. He never is on this day. But he’ll live. He always does.

When he hears a knock on the door sometime later, he’s the kind of drunk he hates the most. He’s weepy, and angry about it. He’s still remarkably steady on his feet for the amount of alcohol he’s drank. Maybe because he already passed out once? Who knows.

He makes it to the door, knowing he’s about to scare away whoever was dumb enough to come over today. He’s wearing his rattiest pair of sweatpants he owns and his oldest, most comfortable shirt. He’s thrown up more than once so that he can keep drinking, and he’s sure he smells like death. He pulls open the door with a scowl already on his face and takes in the sight of Castiel holding a bag of McDonald’s that smells like heaven.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Dean grumbles. Huh. His voice is as rough as the rest of him feels.

“I thought you might need something to eat,” Cas replies. Dean didn’t miss the way Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise when he opened the door. They’ve been friends for a few months now and Dean’s  _never_ let Cas see him like this. He hasn’t even gotten this bad since he’s known him, come to think of it. Guess he’s in for a bit of a rude awakening.

“I’m not gonna stop drinking. And if you try to get me to, you’re leavin’,” Dean explains, and then he turns away from Castiel and goes back to his couch.

Castiel joins him only a minute later, and he groggily notices the space he left between them. That ain’t right. But maybe now that Castiel knows what a fuck up he is he needs his space. That makes sense.

Next thing Dean knows, he’s got a Big Mac in his hand and he’s eating it because it’s there. Then a box of fries are between his legs, and he eats those too, and there’s an episode of  _Friends_ on the TV he loses himself in. For the first time all day, he can almost see through the fog of the whisky he’d been drinking since he woke up. With it, comes the embarrassment of Castiel seeing him like this.

“You didn’t need to come here,” he tells Cas.

Castiel had been laughing at a joke Chandler made, and his face falls slightly when he looks over at Dean. “Of course I did,” he disagrees.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Dean grumbles.

Castiel merely arches a brow and turns back to the TV.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” he barks at him. Castiel just takes another drink from his cup and keeps watching TV. “You just gonna sit there and ignore me?”

“My apologies. Did you want to talk about something?” Castiel asks him calmly.

“Yeah, how about you don’t just invite yourself over to my apartment without my permission,” Dean throws at him.

Castiel snorts. “We spend almost every day together and neither of us has ever asked.”

“Yeah? Well take a fucking hint. Maybe I’m tired of you bein’ in my ass, Cas,” Dean lies.

Dean sees Castiel’s jaw clench, but his voice is still calm when he responds, “Well, I’m already here today. You can have a break from me tomorrow if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Did Sam tell you to come over here and hold my hand? Because I’m not a baby. I’m a grown ass man and if I want to drink my day away then you don’t get to say a fucking word about it.”

“Have I said a word about it?” Castiel challenges him.

He hasn’t, but that doesn’t mean Dean can’t feel the disappointment and disgust rolling off of him in waves.

“You don’t have to. You think I can’t see the way you’re lookin’ at me? Like you finally figured out that I’m a fuck up who likes to hide my feelings in the bottom of a bottle just like my dad and his dad before him. Keepin’ the fucked up Winchester family values alive!” Dean says bitterly.

“You’re grieving. Considering I have no experience with losing somebody I love, I have no place to comment on how you choose to deal with it. But I don’t think you’re a fuck up,” Castiel says kindly.

“Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Dean bitches. Everything inside of Dean is  _screaming_ to close the distance between him and Cas. A part of him knows he’ll feel significantly better if Castiel just touches him, just presses their legs together, but he’s too ashamed to admit he wants to feel better. He deserves to feel like shit on the day his parents died.

“Maybe I don’t,” Castiel says easily. “Still doesn’t change anything. You’re still my best friend.”

“Yeah, the best friend you suddenly need three feet of space from,” Dean blabs.  _Shit._  He didn’t mean to say that. They’ve never acknowledged how close they sit, and drunk isn’t the way to do it.

“If you could smell yourself you’d understand how good of a friend I am to even be sitting in the same room as you,” Castiel says dryly.

“Fuck you,” Dean spits, embarrassed again. But he doesn't say anything else. He loses himself in  _Friends_ again, and he has no idea how much time has passed when Castiel scooches closer.

“Are you done trying to pick a fight with me now?” Castiel asks gently.

Dean scooches towards him, too. “Probably.”

The second their legs press together, Dean closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath.

“You  _really_ need to brush your teeth,” Castiel says with a wince, but he reaches out and lays his hand on top of Dean’s. His thumb hooks around Dean’s wrist, and Dean closes his eyes and just takes in the soothing comfort of his best friend’s touch.

He must fall asleep (or, you know, pass out) because when he comes to again, Castiel is standing in front of him with a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. “Drink this,’ Castiel tells him.

Dean doesn’t question it, he just downs the water and swallows the pills. Castiel pulls him to his feet, leads him to the bathroom, and Dean can figure out what to do from there. He even brushes his teeth, since he can still hear Cas’s voice echoing in his head telling him that he needs to. He walks blearily out of the bathroom and Cas leads him to his bedroom.

Cas pulls back his blankets and Dean clumsily gets into his bed, turning away from Cas. Castiel pulls up the covers, and Dean lets his eyes slide closed again. He hears the sound of his cell phone being plugged in, and then Castiel says, “Do you need an alarm set for tomorrow?”

“Kinda hopin’ I don’t wake up at all,” Dean confesses.

Dean hears Castiel’s sharp intake of air and pretends it doesn’t feel like a knife to the chest. “I would be inconceivably lonely without you,” Castiel says with so much pain in his voice that Dean wants to turn around and pull him in and promise him it’ll be okay. But he doesn’t. He can’t. Then Dean feels Cas’s hand on his shoulder, and he pretends some more. He pretends it doesn’t feel like it’s burning through his shirt and searing into his skin. He pretends his eyes don’t start filling, and he pretends he isn’t going to start crying the minute Cas leaves.

“Can we pretend this never happened?” Dean asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“If that’s what you need,” Castiel answers softly. “Promise me you’ll text me as soon as you wake up?”

“Yeah,” Dean replies, thankful beyond words that Cas is gonna let this go.

“Just go sleep. Things will feel better in the morning. They almost always do,” Castiel suggests.

The first tear spills over. Because Dean never really feels better than this. He just hides it a hell of a lot better.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says quietly.

Dean thinks Castiel’s voice sounds unbearably sad when he answers, “What are friends for? I’ll lock up. Sleep well, Dean.”

Then there’s a final squeeze on his shoulder, and Dean focuses on the quiet sound of Cas’s footsteps retreating from his room. Surprisingly, Dean falls right to sleep without the tears he feared, and unbelievably, he does sleep well, and feels a hell of a lot better in the morning than he deserves to.

He didn’t know Cas slept on his couch until he gets up to pee and sees his shoes at the front door. He hears Cas’s alarm go off as he’s making his way back to his bed. He pretends to be asleep when he hears Cas’s footsteps approach his bed. And he keeps pretending when he feels Castiel’s hand stroke through his hair once gently before it feels for his pulse on his neck. Dean hears Castiel’s sigh of relief, and then his footsteps retreating again. When he hears the front door close behind Castiel, he smiles to himself and wonders what in the world he did to ever deserve a friend like Cas.

When he wakes up the second time, he goes to make himself a cup of coffee. It’s just past ten, so he knows Cas is at work. He texts him like he promised.

 

**DEAN:** I’m alive lol

**CAS:** I’m glad to hear it :)

**DEAN:** I know I said I didn’t wanna talk about it, and I still don’t. But thanks.

**CAS:** Anytime.

**DEAN:** I only get like that when I drink whisky. I’m not always a mean drunk.

**CAS:** Ever think that maybe you shouldn’t drink whisky, then?

**DEAN:** ha ha. Thought’s crossed my mind.

**CAS:** Do you feel okay? Need anything else?

**DEAN:** I’m good. Thanks, buddy.

**CAS:** I’ll get out of your ass now. Let me know when you want to hang out again :)

 

Dean winces. He should’ve known better than to think Cas would just let that go.

 

**DEAN:**  Don’t be a dumbass. You know I didn’t mean that. I’m coming over when you get off work.

**CAS:** You’re cooking or buying me dinner then

**DEAN:**  Yah, yah. Guess I owe you one.

**CAS:** See you after work :)

 

Dean grabs the fixings for tacos and a tub of ice cream on the way to Cas’s place. They spend the night eating way too much, watching Wheel of Fortune, Jeopardy, and Survivor with no space between them on the couch, and then Dean goes back home feeling like everything is back to normal between him and Cas, and subsequently, all is right in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Logically, Castiel knows this is bad. This is all very, very bad. He has been crushing  _hard_ on his very straight best friend for almost three months, and no amount of telling himself how stupid he’s being seems to stop him from making more and more foolish choices when it comes to Dean.

Right from the very first moment he set eyes on those distractingly pink lips at The Roadhouse he was a goner. Even though he’s generally pretty shy when it comes to making the first move, he hit on Dean almost immediately, desperately needing to know if he had a chance, and he was shot down just as fast. Figures. Because Dean Winchester was, at first (second, and one thousandth…) glance, the very culmination of every sexual fantasy he's ever had.

He’s tall, and broad-shouldered. Very muscular, with thick arms and a trim waist. His lips could have volumes of poetry dedicated to them and still never be fully appreciated for how beautiful they truly are. Add in the slash of his high cheek bones, the bright green eyes with speckles of gold in them when the light hits them just right, the freckles dusted across his cheeks, and the miles of tanned skin Dean seemed to have and Castiel can still hardly form words when he looks at him sometimes. Then he heard him speak for the first time, and  _god_ , that low southern drawl hit him right below the belt. The first time Dean smirked at him he thought he might actually burst into flames. Then Dean’s real smile came out when he laughed and he somehow managed to be absolutely adorable at the same time as being extremely sexy.

And Castiel thought all of that  _before_ he had gotten to know Dean! Before he realized how intelligent he is. Before he got a glimpse at just how giving and selfless he is. Before he knew what an incredibly juvenile but somehow still endearing sense of humor he has. Before he met Dean’s brother and his friends and saw just how deeply he cares about people once he lets them in. Before he learned he became a business owner at the ripe age of 24 and manages to keep the bar operating in the black. Everything about Dean was exactly what Castiel had always wanted in a partner.

The way the two of them never seemed to get bored of one another was something Castiel had never experienced until now. It was so easy to be with Dean! They could spend a day doing absolutely nothing but watching TV in sweat pants and it was still better than doing pretty much anything with anybody else. It was always fun, and it always felt good.

Castiel has been dreaming of finding somebody exactly like Dean since he was a teenager. Somebody he could just be himself with and never have to worry about being judged or misunderstood. Castiel  _just was_ when he was with Dean, and he loved that he finally found that with somebody.

If only he could hold his hand, or snuggle up to his chest on the couch the way he really wanted to. If he could lose himself in the soft slide of Dean’s lips against his the way he fantasizes about so often. If he could wake up tangled together with him and tell him how much he means to him, his life would be absolutely perfect.

But instead, he gets to sit back and watch as his best friend runs through woman after woman. It didn't bother him much at first - why would it, after all? They were just friends. Dean had told him he didn’t want to get attached to any one woman and seemed to pick up a different one each week. There wasn't ever an element of surprise to getting a text message that said, “Going out tonight. See you tomorrow.” He never asked Dean any questions, and Dean never offered him any explanations.

The closer they got though, the more Castiel began resenting the times he got those text messages. He tried not showing it, but he knows Dean picked up on how cold he acted on the day after a time or two. Either Dean had stopped sleeping around in the last month or so, or he somehow did it without Castiel finding out. Either way, Castiel couldn't bring himself to ask. If Dean was sleeping around, Castiel knew he would be unfairly upset. And if he wasn't, he would be unrealistically hopeful that he might have a chance.

Because for as often as Dean has said he’s straight, Castiel secretly refuses to accept that Dean doesn't feel the connection between them the way he does. There’s no way that their eyes catch as often as they do and hold longer than they should without Dean feeling at least a fraction of what Castiel feels. Castiel just can't believe this is entirely one sided, as stupid as those thoughts might be.

After he came on to Dean several times that time he got drunk on Valentine’s Day, he makes sure not to drink so much around him anymore. He doesn't trust himself not to say something that would be better left unsaid. No matter how much he wants to believe Dean might like him back, he will never  _ever_ admit to his feelings before Dean does. He wants to be with Dean more than anything, but he refuses to risk their friendship by scaring him away with a confession of just how much he likes him. So he needs to make sure he doesn't get that drunk in front of Dean again, because he doesn't trust himself anymore after Valentine’s Day.

As pathetic as it is, waking up that morning curled up on Dean’s chest remains one of the best moments of his life. The feeling of being complete, of being happy, of being exactly where he wanted to be for once was absolutely euphoric. Unfortunately it only lasted a moment before he realized his erection was digging into Dean’s hip.

He’d never been so mortified in his entire life. He apologized over and over, but he was still terrified that Dean would never look at him the same way again. Eventually, Dean told him to stop bringing it up, and he was able to (mostly) pretend it never happened. Dean never mentions the way they woke up that morning again, so Castiel doesn't either.

They keep quiet about it the same way they keep quiet about how they started sitting so close to one another that their bodies are always pressed together. They ignore the way Dean seemingly can't keep his hands off of him. They ignore the way  _he knows_ Dean sees the soft smile he gets on his face whenever Dean makes it a point to touch him in some way. They don't talk about how they don't sit so close when other people are around, either. Castiel knows it’s impossible that Dean hasn't noticed it, but he never brings it up, and Castiel doesn’t want it to stop, so he doesn’t either.

The biggest thing giving Castiel hope right now is the way Dean was staring at him when he was bare chested a few weeks ago. He had never been in such a state of undress in front of Dean before, but apparently he should have come up with an excuse to show off his body sooner, because there is no doubt in his mind that Dean was checking him out. Castiel tracked Dean’s eyes as they were glued to the jut of his hips, and he didn't miss the way they dragged up his chiseled stomach. Castiel knew he would never again curse about doing sit ups and ab crunches every morning after the way Dean looked at him that day. Every single one of them had been worth it to be the cause of  _that look_ on Dean’s face. He also didn't miss the violent blush on Dean’s cheeks when Castiel had teased him for it.

But  _he had to_ tease him, because if he didn’t get him to look away, he was afraid Dean would notice the beginning of the erection in his pants that was quickly getting out of control. Even just the  _idea_ of Dean finding him attractive made him hard as a rock in record time, and he knows if they hadn't had to go to the movie that night he would have hidden out in the bathroom for five minutes and dealt with the problem while thinking about  _that look_ on Dean’s face still fresh in his mind.

As it was, he was kept in a state of semi-arousal all night when Dean’s leg never stopped pressing against his in the movie theatre, which made him feel like a ridiculously over-eager teenager but was true nonetheless. Castiel stroked himself into a mind-blowing orgasm later that night. It wasn't the first time he had thought of Dean while he pleasured himself, but it was the first time he really allowed himself to believe Dean might be attracted to him too, and his body was really,  _really_ on board with the idea. He had never been affected by anybody like this in his entire life.

Things just get worse from there. Castiel tells himself all day every day:  _Dean’s straight. Dean isn’t interested in you. He doesn’t like men._ But every night before he falls asleep, he mentally goes over every time Dean touched him that day. He thinks about the way Dean’s face lights up when he walks into the room. How Dean’s eyes follow his every move. How Dean always makes sure there’s no space between them, and how if there is, Dean’s the one who moves closer to erase it. He falls asleep wishing desperately for a chance to be with Dean the way he wants to be, and then wakes up the next morning furious with himself for indulging in his fantasies. It’s only going to get him hurt in the long run.

One of the worst days is just a regular Tuesday in April. April is easily the busiest month of the year for him because of all of the personal income tax returns he does at work. He woke up late, and he barely has time to throw a sandwich together and shove it and an apple in a paper bag for his lunch before he’s out the door with his travel mug of coffee in his hands. He puts his lunch on top of the car to dig out his keys and stupidly forgets about it, and he’s almost out of his driveway when he drives over it and hears the crinkle of the bag under his tires. He’s late though, so he doesn’t have time to go back in for it, and he knows he won’t have time to go get anything to eat. So he drinks his coffee and resigns himself to being hungry as well as grouchy for the rest of the day.

Nobody could have prepared him for the sight of Dean poking his head into his cubicle at eleven o’clock with a sandwich in a Ziploc bag, a snack size bag of plain potato chips, a new apple, and a coffee from his favorite coffee shop in hand.

“Drove past your house today and it looked like some dummy ran over his own lunch in his driveway this morning. Thought you might get hungry,” Dean says with a small smile on his face.

Castiel feels his heart turn to mush, and that’s the moment he realizes that he has stupidly, foolishly, undeniably gone and fallen in love with his straight best friend. He has to look down at the cup of coffee that now sits in front of him on his desk to hide his emotions and the tears that are fighting their way to the surface.

How could he have let this happen?

He must take too long to answer because Dean says, “It’s uh, okay that I just stopped by here, right?”

Castiel looks up at him, eyes still shining, and smiles. “Of course it is. I’m sorry I’m a little off. I overslept this morning, ruined my lunch, and I was just having a terrible, terrible day until you showed up. I feel like I have whiplash. You have no idea how badly I needed this.”

Dean smiles at him. “Guess I’ll get to cash in on one hell of a favor after this then, huh? Listen, swing by my place on the way home and I’ll make sure you get a good meal for dinner, too.”

“You don’t have to do that, you’ve already done enough,” Castiel assures him.

“I want to,” Dean insists. “Looks like you could use a break, and I already bought all the shit to make dinner for both of us when I had to go buy an apple for your lunch.”

Castiel can’t help but laugh at Dean possibly buying from the produce section for the first time in his adult life. “That’s very kind of you, really. But I’m buried here, and I have no idea when I’m going to get through these tax returns.”

“Time doesn’t matter, I’m not going anywhere. Just let me know when you leave, okay?” Castiel opens his mouth to protest again, but Dean cuts him off, “I’ll see you later, buddy. Don’t stand me up!”

Castiel’s smile comes quickly, and then Dean turns and starts walking away. “Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says to his back, and Dean turns to give him a wink before he disappears out the door just as quickly as he showed up.

Castiel allows himself a moment to rest his chin in his hands on his desk, smiling stupidly at the coffee and lunch Dean made for him.

His colleague, Brian, rolls his chair around to look at Castiel in his cubicle with his eyebrows arched high. “Where can I find myself one of _those_?” he asks, teasing him.

Castiel laughs. Brian is one of the only people at work who knows he’s gay. Probably because Brian is, too. “Dean’s a very good friend.”

Brian laughs. “Castiel, I’ve been working with you five days a week for the last three months. You only ever get  _that_ look on your face when you’re talking about Dean.”

Castiel can’t even begin to deny that. So he answers, “Dean’s straight.”

Brian nods his head in understanding. “Been there,” he says sadly.

“He really is a good friend, though,” Castiel defends.

“Sounds like it! He brought you lunch  _and_ he’s cooking you dinner tonight. He sounds like he’s as nice on the inside as he is on the outside,” he says with a knowing smile.

“Pretty hard not to notice that. And those lips of his  _really_ don’t help,” Castiel adds, which makes Brian laugh.

“I was distracted by the bow legs, myself,” Brian replies, and Castiel grins wider.

“Hey, if I don’t get to have him, neither do you,” Castiel reminds him, and Brian holds his hands up in surrender before he rolls his chair back to his cubicle.

Castiel can’t wipe the smile off of his face even after he gets buried by another six tax returns. He’s so screwed.

After Dean cooks Castiel homemade burgers that night in his apartment - the absolute  _best_ burger he has ever had - they end up spending a lot more time at Dean’s place. Up until now, they always seemed to hang out at Castiel’s place. But Dean starts asking him to stop over on his way home from work, and they start sharing time between both of their places.

Castiel falls harder in May when Dean starts stocking Coke for Castiel at his place, and Castiel reciprocates by purchasing Pepsi for Dean the next time he goes grocery shopping. When Dean finds it in the fridge he’s rewarded with a smile so bright he can almost feel it fill him up with hope. He doesn’t think he’s projecting when he notices Dean gets even more affectionate as time goes on, and he now has to actually fight back the urge to just take a chance and hold Dean’s hand to see how he reacts several times a day. He drives himself absolutely crazy thinking about resting his head on Dean’s shoulder late at night while they watch movies on the couch, or swinging his leg over his lap and kissing him breathless while he straddles him. He loses himself in a fantasy of rolling his hips on top of Dean, with Dean’s erection pressing against his ass, every time they move against one another bringing them closer and closer to orgasm... but is quickly brought back to reality by the sound of an incoming text message. Of course, it’s Dean, and he feels immediately guilty for the direction of his thoughts. He tries to shake it off as he reads the message.

 

 **DEAN:** Wanna meet at Burger World for dinner?

 **CASTIEL:**  Sure, what time?

 **DEAN:** Jo wants more hours so I’m thinking of heading out at 7. You okay to wait that late?

 **CASTIEL:** I’ll live, I guess :P Should I just walk over to the bar and we can go together?

 **DEAN:** I’m sure as shit not going in your hunk of junk. See you at 7.

 

Castiel leaves his place at five to seven, and walks the short distance to the bar. He walks through the front door and right up to what he has started to think of as  _his seat_ at the bar. Dean isn’t in sight, but Jo comes over to say hello.

“Hey, Cas. What’re you doin’ here?” Jo asks, smiling at him.

“Just waiting for Dean to get off,” he answers.

“Jeez, the two of you are really joined at the hip these days, huh?”

Castiel has thought for months that Jo is harboring a crush on Dean, and comments like this are a big reason why. Maybe she’s just jealous of their friendship? He doesn’t know for sure. He does know she’s not nearly as warm with him as she is with Dean’s other friends… not that she ever gives off much of a warm vibe at all as far as Castiel is concerned. Castiel shrugs before he responds with, “I suppose.”

“What are you two up to tonight?”

“We’re going to get a decent burger for once at Burger World,” Castiel teases her, which makes her grin at him.

“Don’t let Dean hear you say that, it always gets him riled up,” she answers.

“That’s most of the reason why I say it,” Castiel explains, smiling at his own sense of humor.

“Do you want anything to drink while you wait?”

“Don’t bother, I’m ready,” Dean says, entering from the door behind the bar and sliding his arms into the sleeves of his leather jacket. “You good?” he says to Jo.

“You bet. Thanks again for giving me the extra hours,” she replies.

“Anytime you want me to work less you just let me know,” Dean tells her, tugging on her ponytail before he comes around to Castiel’s side of the bar. “Hey, buddy,” Dean says to him, face lighting up the way Castiel always thinks it does when he looks at him.

“Hello, Dean,” he responds, smiling softly back at him. “You hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” he remarks. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Castiel frowns as he gets to his feet to walk alongside Dean. “What does that mean anyway? Where did that saying even come from?”

Dean snorts. “Who the hell knows? You have no idea how many times a day somethin’ comes outta my mouth and I have no frickin’ clue where I learned it.” When they get to the parking lot, Dean runs his hand across the top of his car. “Hey, Baby,” he says, his voice deep. Castiel feels desire curl in his stomach and files Dean’s endearment and tone of voice away as something he can replay in his head later…

When they both get into the car, Led Zeppelin comes through the speakers, a band that Castiel has heard so often at this point that he could probably name any Zeppelin song just by the opening chords. Though it really isn’t his kind of music, he associates it so strongly with Dean now, that he’s come to love it. Not that he’d ever tell Dean that.

When they pull into the diner parking lot a few minutes later, they get out and walk inside. Dean’s hand comes to rest between Castiel’s shoulder blades once he walks through the door, which makes Castiel feel all fuzzy inside, and they sit at the same booth they always do. Castiel wonders if Dean hates the table between them as much as he does. Probably not.

They come here often enough that he’s surprised when he sees an unfamiliar waitress approach the table.

“Welcome to Burger World,” she says, smiling brightly. “Can I start you two off with a drink?”

“Pepsi for me, Coke for him,” Dean says gruffly.

“Please,” Castiel adds, smiling in apology for Dean.

Her eyes dart between the two of them quickly before she smiles and says, “I’ll be right back with those and your menus.”

“Oh, that’s okay, we’ve got the menu down pretty good by now,” Dean tells her. “We already know what we want.”

“How do you know I don’t want something different tonight?” Castiel interjects.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Do you?”

“Well, no,” Castiel says sheepishly, “but the point is I  _could have_ , and you didn’t even check before you were ready to order for me.”

“I’m just takin’ care of you, Cas. You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Dean.’”

Castiel snorts, but says, “Thank you, Dean,” in a flat tone of voice. When Dean gives him one of his most charming smiles in return, Castiel feels a blush heating his cheeks and looks down at the table to try to hide his face.

“Aw, you two are adorable together,” the waitress says, smiling wide at the two of them. “My brother’s gay and you two remind of him and his husband so much it’s actually making me miss him a little. The two of them are ridiculously cute together but drive each other crazy, too.”

Castiel feels his face heat up even more and looks up to tell her they’re not a couple when Dean says, “Oh, I get that, alright. This guy drives me plenty crazy, but the good kinda crazy, ya know? Wouldn’t put up with him otherwise.”

Castiel looks at him with surprise, wondering why he didn’t say they aren’t together, and Dean winks at him, which doesn’t help his pink cheeks at all.

“I bet he gets away with a lot when he uses those big blue eyes on you,” she comments.

“Who could say no to those baby blues, right?” Dean agrees. Castiel’s heart is beating erratically. Even though he knows there’s no way he means it, hearing Dean talk about him this way is  _doing things_ to him.

“I know I couldn’t,” she says easily, smiling sweetly at Castiel. “What can I get for y’all?”

“Two bacon cheeseburgers, both with the works, both with fries,” Dean answers her.

She nods. “That’s easy enough. Shouldn’t be too long,” she promises, and then she turns and walks away.

“Did’ya hear that, Cas? Apparently I look like a gay dude,” Dean teases, grinning.

Castiel shakes his head, trying to clear it. “Anybody can be gay, Dean. It doesn’t matter what you look like.”

“Pretty sure I remember you tellin’ me I look butch,” Dean reminds him.

“You do. But she probably just thinks you’re overcompensating.”

“Oh screw you,” Dean laughs.

“The waitress probably thinks you do already,” Castiel teases, and this time it’s Dean’s face that goes a little red. Castiel always loves when Dean blushes because it highlights his freckles.

“Been accused of worse,” Dean shoots back, surprising Castiel.

Castiel lowers his voice. “Why didn’t you tell her we’re just friends?”

Dean shrugs a shoulder. “She woulda been embarrassed.”

“Aren’t _you_? There’s people in here we’ll see again. Some that come to your bar.”

“Won’t be the first time I’d have to tell somebody we’re not fucking,” Dean admits.

Castiel’s jaw drops a little. “Seriously?”

Dean grins. “Yeah, I probably get asked about you once a week.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I dunno, man, what difference does it make?” Dean asks.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or give people the wrong idea about you,” Castiel explains.

“Obviously it don’t bother me too much or I’d drop your ass,” Dean says with a smile.

Castiel scoffs at the idea. “You’d be miserable without me.”

“You ain’t wrong,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel feels hope bubbling inside of him, but of course, that’s when the waitress reappears with their drinks. “Who gets the Coke again?” she checks.

“That’s for you, _baby_ ,” Dean says to Castiel, putting emphasis on the word baby, as if Castiel ever would have missed Dean calling him a pet name, even if it’s just pretend.

Castiel has to take a sip before he can answer, because his mouth is suddenly very dry. For a brief second he considers calling Dean something in return but he can’t bring himself to do it. “Thank you, Dean,” he finally manages.

“Your burgers won’t be long,” the waitress promises before she takes off again.

“You only said that to embarrass me,” Castiel accuses Dean in a whisper.

Dean feigns hurt feelings. “Bein’ my baby would embarrass you, Cas?”

“Allowing anybody to call me baby would be embarrassing. That’s only the most unoriginal, unflattering endearment in the history of the world,” Castiel gripes.

“C’mon! Everybody likes being called  _baby_ ,” Dean disagrees.

“Not anybody with more than half a brain. That’s probably what you call all those women you sleep with when you can’t remember their names.”

A laugh rolls out of Dean, and he takes a drink of his Pepsi. “Ah, you know me too well, Cas.”

Castiel pins him with a glare. “You don’t really. Tell me you’re not that guy.”

Dean laughs again, obviously amused by Castiel’s reaction. “I’m not. Sadly, I haven’t had sex hot enough to make me moan anybody’s name in way too frickin’ long. I’m getting old, man.”

“I don’t even remember the last time I had sex,” Castiel admits with a sigh.

Dean makes a face of disgust. “Thank god for the internet, am I right?”

Castiel grins but feels his face flush again. He hasn’t needed anything but the thought of Dean to get him off for months. “This might be the weirdest conversation we’ve ever had.”

“I dunno, man. I’m still pretty traumatized over that time you and Charlie talked for fucking ever about who would bottom between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy,” Dean complains.

Castiel laughs, remembering the conversation well. “I’m sure it was at least informative for you.”

“Learned way more than I ever needed to know about gay sex,” Dean confirms.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Castiel retorts.

Dean shakes his head. “You ever do it my way? Hook up with a chick?”

Castiel is surprised by the question, but not uncomfortable. “Never. I was rounding second base when I was 15 once, but when her bra came off and I recoiled when I touched her breasts for the first time, I gave in to the fact that I am 99% gay and didn’t want to do anything else with her or other women.”

“Man, I have never been able to relate to you less,” Dean quips, and Castiel grins. He’s seen Dean ogle the breasts of women more times than he can count, so he can’t say he’s surprised to hear that.

“You’re so subtle when you’re checking women out I never would’ve guessed that,” Castiel says sarcastically.

“No wonder you never get laid. The whole point of checking somebody out is not to be subtle so that the chick knows I’m into her,” Dean explains. “Besides, I’m more of an ass man.”

“Now  _that_ I wouldn’t have guessed,” Castiel says honestly.

“I guess you’re an ass man by default,” Dean comments.

They’ve never really talked about this kind of thing, and while Castiel isn’t against it, he isn’t sure how much he should divulge. “It’s true that I appreciate a nice ass, yes.”

“I know I like a nice rack along with an ass, like most straight guys do, so is there a, uh, I dunno, gay equivalent to tits for you 99% gay guys?” Dean asks, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Castiel chuckles. “I don’t know that I can speak for every gay man, but I find myself attracted to a broad set of shoulders or muscular back just as often as a nice ass,” Castiel admits.

“And  _that_ explains why you whistled at me that night you saw me take my shirt off,” Dean realizes aloud.

Castiel flushes again. “I was drunk, and I believe I already said I was joking at the time.”

Dean laughs. “My shoulders and back aren’t good enough for you, huh? ‘Cause I  _know_ I’ve got a nice ass.”

Castiel shakes his head in exasperation. “We are not having this conversation,” he insists.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re my best friend and it’s weird to talk about how I’m attracted to you,” Castiel hears the words come out of his mouth and winces. Dean’s grin spreads quickly on his face, and Castiel tries to find a way to take the words away without lying. “How I would hypothetically be attracted to you, I mean.”

Dean snorts. “Just like you  _hypothetically_ hit on me the first night we met.”

“You seem to have a surprisingly clear memory of that night for somebody who can’t remember to charge his phone half the time,” Castiel dodges.

“Just tell me you still think I have a pretty face and I’ll let it go,” Dean asks.

“I never said you have a pretty face,” Castiel disagrees.  _Pretty doesn’t even begin do it justice_ , he thinks.

“You said somethin’ about my face!”

“I don't remember,” he lies. Why is Dean so insistent about this all of the sudden?

“Okay, fine. You got to know me since then and now you’re not into me anymore, I get it,” Dean says. He’s using a strange tone of voice and Castiel can’t tell if he’s still joking now or if he sounds a little bit hurt.

“Dean,” Castiel says softly. “You are the best man I know, and even if you didn’t have the face of a model with a body to match, I would very much be into you  _if_ you were also into men.”

“Was that so hard?”

“I don’t know why it’s relevant,” Castiel returns.

“It’s not, other than a stroke to my ego,” Dean answers.

“Which you very obviously don’t need to feed any further.”

“I take offence to that,” Dean tells him.

Castiel huffs out a laugh. “No you don’t.”

Dean grins. “You’re right, I don’t. Let’s go back to this 99% gay thing. What’s with the other one percent?”

“I don’t think anybody’s completely gay  _or_ completely straight. There’s an exception for everybody,” Castiel explains.

“Who’s yours?”

“Easy: Scarlett Johansson and Jessica Biel,” he responds.

Dean bursts out laughing. “Can’t knock your taste. Aren’t you gonna ask me about my exception?”

Castiel snorts. “It’s pretty clear, Dean.”

Dean arches an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Who is it, then?”

“Dr. Sexy. You literally couldn’t be more obvious about it.”

Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times, before he stutters, “He wears scrubs and  _cowboy boots_! It’s like two fantasies in one! How’m I supposed to resist that?”

“Hey, no judgement on my part. I mean, his hair’s a little Sam-like for my tastes, but whatever floats your boat,” he says easily.

Dean’s face falls into a pout. “ _Dude_. Do  _not_ ruin Dr. Sexy for me by comparing him to my brother.”

“My apologies,” Castiel chuckles.

“Okay, boys, got your burgers here,” the waitress says as she approaches their table. She places a plate down in front of each of them and says she’ll be back with refills of their sodas.

Thankfully, their conversation over dinner goes back to the kinds of things he’s more used to discussing with Dean, like work and Sam. It isn’t awkward again until their plates are cleared, their stomachs are full, and the waitress returns with a single bill.

“Who’s buying tonight?” she asks.

“I got it,” Dean offers, reaching for it.

“That isn’t necessary,” Castiel says honestly. “We can split it.”

“C’mon Cas, you cook for us all the time, let me buy your food for once.”

Castiel huffs out a sigh. “Fine. But I buy the next time we go out.”

“We’ll see,” Dean answers, standing up to pull his wallet out of his leather jacket. He takes out a couple of bills and leaves them on the table. Castiel can see the smile ghosting his lips when he says, “Let’s get outta here, baby.”

“By the way, I just want to say how brave I think you guys are for being out and proud in this part of Texas. I know how hard it can be sometimes, and I think it’s really great that you’re willing to put up with that just so you can be together in the open,” the waitress tells them.

“It ain’t like there’s anything to be ashamed of. It shouldn’t be hard to be who you are,” Dean says before Castiel can find his voice.

“I agree. It was nice to meet you guys. I hope I see you around again soon,” she says, smiling brightly.

Castiel has never loved Dean more than he does in this moment, and he uses the illusion of being in a relationship to justify putting his arm around his waist and pulling him close to his body while they walk out of the restaurant. Dean seems to be trying to hold in his laughter, which makes Castiel smile in return, but he’s also concentrating hard on the way Dean fits perfectly against his body. About how good it feels to be touching him again after an hour of sitting across from each other and out of reach. And about the hard jut of Dean’s hip against his palm, and the way Dean’s natural scent mixed with the leather of his jacket makes his head swim.

“ _Cas,”_ Dean’s voice breaks through his thoughts and he knows by his tone of voice that it isn’t the first time he’s said his name.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought,” Castiel tells him. “What’s up?”

“I was tryin’ to tell you that you could let go of me now that we’re outside, but since you spaced out on me we pretty much made it to the car anyway.”

“My apologies,” Castiel says quickly, letting his hand drop from Dean’s hip, taking a step away from him and instantly hating the space between them.

“No biggie, not like you were humping my leg or somethin’,” Dean replies, climbing into the car. “What’re we gonna watch when we get back to your place?”

Castiel smiles to himself, loving how Dean wants to spend more time with him and that he knows he doesn’t have to ask about it. “It pains me to admit that I believe it’s your turn to choose what we watch.”

“Holla!” Dean exclaims, which causes Castiel to side-eye him. Hard.  

“Really?”

“I can’t pull that off, can I?” Dean asks.

“Not even close,” Castiel chuckles.

Dean shrugs a shoulder, grinning, and Castiel cannot wipe the smile off of his face.

He’s so, so screwed.

A few weeks after that night at the diner, Castiel wakes up with his mouth dry and his throat sore. His throat felt a little scratchy last night, now that he thinks back, but he and Dean were actually watching a movie instead of talking over it so he didn’t really notice it all that much. He stumbles to the bathroom attached to his bedroom and takes a drink of water, hoping it will soothe his throat some, but instead it feels like he’s swallowing tiny shards of glass.

_Ow._

That’s not normal.

He pushes past the pain to swallow down a couple of painkillers, hoping that might help, and then gets into the shower and starts getting ready for the day. By the time he gets out of the shower, he’s shivering, so he throws on his thickest pair of sweatpants and a worn but comfortable hoodie. He sends a text message to his colleague, Brian, warning him that he’s coming down with something and won’t be able to make it into the office today. He makes himself a pot of coffee, grabs an old blanket to cover up with, and curls up on the couch.

The first swallow of the coffee causes so much pain that he grabs at his throat in surprise. He eyes the coffee with distrust and betrayal. He _needs_ coffee, and a lot of it, to get through a day. But he can’t drink it. Maybe he’ll wait a bit for the painkillers to kick in and try again.

He turns the TV on and turns it to a music channel just to have some background noise in the house. He lays down and closes his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing, on the music, on anything but the pain radiating in his throat. He waits a half an hour, and when he tries his coffee again, not only is it lukewarm, it still hurts just as much going down.

Just fucking great.

He’s had strep throat once before, years ago, but it was bad enough that he remembers the sensation, and he’s fairly certain that’s what’s going on now. He grabs his cell phone and Googles the closest Urgent Care Centre. He didn’t notice until he tries to use the keyboard just how badly his hands are shaking. He really is freezing.

It’s with a sigh of resignation that he calls Dean.

“Cas? What’s up?” Dean answers quickly. They hardly ever talk on the phone, opting for texting instead. Dean’s voice is raspy and Castiel figures he probably woke him up.

“I apologize for waking you,” Castiel says, wincing when he uses his voice for the first time that morning. Not only does it hurt, but it comes out in a terrible croak.

“You sound like shit,” Dean comments.

“I need to go to Urgent Care, but I can’t drive myself,” he explains.

“I’ll be right there,” Dean replies, and then the phone goes dead.

Castiel sighs in relief and lays back down on the couch to wait for Dean to show up. It isn’t long before he hears the roar of the Impala pull into his driveway. He sits up, shivering more at the loss of the couch’s fabric no longer warming his back. He wraps the blanket around him and gets to his feet, only to lose his balance and topple back onto the couch.

Dean must let himself in with the spare key he keeps outside, because suddenly those green eyes of his are locked onto him and there’s concern written all over his face. “You look worse than you sounded on the phone. What’s goin’ on, man?” Dean asks him.

Castiel shoots daggers at him with his eyes. He doesn’t need to be reminded by the most handsome man he’s ever seen in his life that he looks like a bag of shit. He notices absentmindedly that Dean’s in the same clothes he had on last night, his hair is sticking up haphazardly, his breath smells like toothpaste, and he has a day’s worth of stubble on his face. He must have just rolled out of bed and come right here. Castiel simply taps at his throat in answer to Dean’s question.

Dean nods, understanding. He takes in the sight of him wrapped in the blanket and lifts his hand to place on his forehead. “Son of a bitch, you’re on fuckin’ fire,” Dean exclaims, “and you’re shaking like a leaf.”

Castiel points at Dean, meaning  _that’s why I called you. Can’t drive._

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. I get it. Let’s go, buddy. I’ll uh, get your shoes,” Dean remembers. He walks over and grabs them for him, then puts them on for him one at a time. “Casserella,” he quips, which prompts Castiel to roll his eyes. “If you’re not gonna talk back, you’re gonna have to listen to me ramble stupid shit more than usual. You good to get to your feet?”

Castiel stands, the world spins a little, and then Dean’s arm is around his waist, steadying him.

“I’m gonna take that as a no,” Dean says smoothly. “I got you, though, bud. C’mon.”

Dean grabs Castiel’s wallet from the table beside the door as they pass it, and shoves it in his back pocket quickly. They make it down the stairs slowly, and Dean complains, “If you weren’t heavy as shit I’d carry your ass. This ain’t good, Cas. You’re kinda scaring the shit outta me, man.”

Castiel’s heart clenches at that. He doesn’t want to worry Dean. When Dean opens the car door for him, Castiel steps into his arms and rests his head on his shoulder for a moment, hoping to give him comfort. “Don’t worry,” he croaks. Dean wraps his arms around him, and one hand comes up to stroke his hair at the base of his neck. If Castiel were a cat he would be purring. Honestly, he’s pretty close as it is.

“You’re burning up,” Dean says after a moment, releasing him and guiding him into the passenger seat before he runs around to his side of the car. “Did you take anything for your fever? Tylenol?” Castiel shakes his head. “Ibuprofen?” Castiel nods. “And I saw your full cup of coffee, so I’m guessing you couldn’t drink it, which means you must be in a shitload of pain.” Castiel nods again. “How long ago did you take the pills?” Castiel draws a figure eight in the air. “8:00? That was almost an hour ago now. I can’t believe your fever’s still that high. Shit.”

Castiel works one of his hands out of the blanket and places it on Dean’s knee in a gesture of comfort.

“I should be the one taking care a you, not you tryin’ to make me feel better.”

Castiel tilts his head to the side, giving Dean a significant look. Dean basically rolled out of bed and came right over to drive him to Urgent Care, no questions asked. He  _is_ taking care of him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles, like he can read his mind. Castiel doesn’t remove his hand, feeling steadier the way he always does just touching Dean, and Dean doesn’t ask him to move it, either.

They pull into the Urgent Care Centre, and Dean supports his weight again as they walk through the front doors. Dean gets Castiel to take a seat, and Castiel closes his eyes, shaking violently. Dean comes back to sit beside him a little while later, and Castiel opens his eyes to see Dean filling out his paperwork.

“You don’t have insurance, do ya?” Dean checks, and Castiel shakes his head. “Yeah, me neither. What’s your middle initial? How do I not know your middle name?”

“James,” Castiel whispers.

Dean nods, hand flying over the clipboard, muttering to himself as he goes. “Phone number. Address. Birthdate. No allergies, right?” Castiel shakes his head. “Important medical history?” Castiel shakes his head again. “Symptoms: Sore throat, fever, shakes. Got a headache?” Castiel nods. “Any rash?” Castiel shrugs. He didn’t notice anything. “I’m not mean enough to take away your blanket to check either. Okay, well, I’ll just put a question mark. They can fuckin’ figure it out. Uh, breathing fine, right?” Castiel nods. “Anything else? You’re not gonna yack on me, are ya?” Castiel shakes his head. “You seem pretty tired. Hard to tell if it’s lethargy or if this is your regular energy level minus the three pots of coffee you drink a day.”

What a dick. Castiel knocks his shoulder into Dean’s and Dean grins at him. “I know, I’m a dick,” Dean says, which makes Castiel smile for the first time all morning. “You’re basically screamin’ it at me with those stupidly blue eyes of yours,” Dean explains, then flushes and looks away again. “I’m putting myself as your emergency contact, and brother as our relationship in case we need to be family or some shit. K?” Castiel nods. “K, I think that’s it. I’ll go hand this back in. Don’t move.”

Castiel feels like absolute shit, but somewhere deep inside he is pleased with how well Dean knows him and that he could fill out almost all of the paperwork without needing to ask any questions. He really is the best friend he’s ever had. And he’s taking such good care of him. Not for the first time, he thinks about just how lucky he is to have Dean in his life. He can’t imagine what he would have done today without him.

Dean comes back and sits beside him. “Said it’ll be a little while. You doin’ okay?”

Castiel shrugs. He feels terrible, but there’s no use worrying Dean any more than he already is.

“You can, ya know, rest your head on my shoulder if you want. I know you’re tired, buddy,” Dean offers.

Castiel is too weak to refuse the chance to snuggle up to the man he loves. So he shifts his body and leans against Dean, placing his head on his shoulder. To his absolute delight, Dean wraps his arm around his shoulder, and Castiel makes himself comfortable in the crook of his arm. He closes his eyes and takes comfort from Dean. He feels warmth bloom inside his chest, but he still longs for this to mean to Dean what it means to him.

He’s absolutely mortified when he feels tears come to his eyes, and soon he’s sniffling trying to keep quiet.

“You okay there man?” Dean asks, his voice quiet.

Castiel shakes his head and burrows in closer to his neck.

“Yeah, I’m a big baby when I’m not feelin’ good, too,” Dean comments, not unkindly. “Anythin’ else I can do?”

Castiel shakes his head again and raises a hand to wipe at his face.

“You’re not dripping snot all over me, are ya?”

Castiel shrugs, unsure, and Dean just sighs heavily, like he’s resigned to being covered in Castiel’s snot and he doesn’t even care, which makes Castiel’s shoulders shake with a silent chuckle. Then Dean rubs his hand up and down Castiel’s back, and Castiel has never wished there were fewer layers between him and Dean more in his entire life. A small part of him is thinking he’d take all this pain every single day if he could be this close to Dean all the time. He closes his eyes and lets Dean’s hand soothe him the best it can.

“Castiel Novak?” Castiel jerks back to consciousness.

“Cas, c’mon man,” Dean says. Dean gets to his feet and pulls Cas up with him. They take a few steps towards the nurse and Dean explains, “He’s a little wobbly.”

She looks over the paperwork on the clipboard in her hands. “You’re Dean?” Dean nods. “You can come if he wants you to. You might come in handy holding him up.”

“That okay, Cas?” Dean asks, and Castiel nods weakly.

“This way,” the nurse says, walking through a set of double doors and down a small hallway into a room. “I’m just going to take your vitals,” she says. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to lose the blanket.” Castiel sighs but lets it fall off his shoulders. “The sweater too,” she says.

Castiel glares at her but pulls the sweater up over his head, revealing his t-shirt which is absolutely soaked in sweat.

Castiel stays silent as the nurse takes his blood pressure, pulse, temperature, and listens to his chest. She looks inside his mouth and makes a clicking sound with her tongue. “Can you lift up your shirt for me, please?”

Castiel frowns but does it, and the grumble that comes out of Dean is enough to clue him in that he does have a rash without even having to look at it. “This is pretty redundant at this point, but I do want to swab you for strep before the doctor prescribes antibiotics. I’ll just go get the rapid test swab and I’ll be right back. You can put your sweater back on if you want, though light layers are really best for a fever,” she tells him before she exits the room.

“Want me to trip her on the way back in?” Dean asks, and Castiel’s lips quirk. “You’re a damn mess, Cas. 104 is not freakin’ normal for a fever.”

Castiel pulls the sweater back over his head defiantly and slumps against the wall, which makes him bump his head and he lets out a sad groan.

Castiel hears Dean sigh, and then he takes a seat on the hospital bed beside him, back to the wall, and pulls Castiel’s head back to his shoulder. “You’re really pathetic, you know that? Like a sick puppy or somethin’.”

Castiel doesn’t care. He’s as comfortable as he’s going to get again, and Dean is an additional comfort pressed against his body. He lets his eyes close again and only opens them when he hears the nurse say, “Brothers, huh?” in a knowing tone of voice.

“More like best friends,” Dean answers.

She laughs like she doesn’t believe him and says, “Don’t worry about it. That kinda thing happens a lot since same sex marriage isn’t legal here.”

Castiel cannot believe this is happening for the second time in less than a month. If Castiel being clingy and needy doesn’t send Dean running for the hills, surely, having to pretend to be his husband will.

“Thanks,” Dean answers her, and Castiel nods his head, too.

“Okay, fair warning, this is going to be painful, but it’ll only last a second.” Castiel nods. “Open up.” He opens his mouth and she inserts the swab into his mouth, jabbing him in the back of the throat and making him whine in pain, tears springing to his eyes again. Dean’s arm wraps around him again, rubbing his hand up and down his back soothingly. Castiel fists his hand in Dean’s leather jacket when the nurse starts talking. “That’s it, the worst is over. Usually we’d make you go back to the waiting room, but there aren’t many people here today so we’ll let you stay in the room unless we need it. The doctor should be back in ten minutes with your results. Just take it easy until then, okay?”

“Sit up for a sec. I can go back on the chair and you can lay down and relax,” Dean offers.

Castiel shakes his head quickly in disagreement.

“Really?”

Castiel stays where he is.

“You’re a baby, you know that?” Castiel doesn’t say anything. “I fuckin’ hate cuddling,” he grumbles. Castiel huffs a bit of a laugh, but Dean doesn’t ask him move, so he doesn’t.

A little while later, Dean shrugs his shoulder and Castiel opens his eyes to see a doctor walking into the room. He sits up, and Dean hops off the bed and situates himself in the chair. The doctor doesn’t even look up from his clipboard.

“C. Novak?” Castiel nods. “I’m Dr. Rivet. I took a look at your strep test, and you definitely have strep throat. Have you had it before?”

Castiel nods.

“Hurts to talk?” Castiel nods again. “How long have you had symptoms?”

Castiel turns to Dean, and Dean says, “He was fine when he went to bed last night. Woke up this morning and couldn’t even drink his coffee. Which probably explains away half of why he looks like a zombie.”

The doctor smiles at the two of them. “Have you had anything to eat or drink at all today?” Castiel shakes his head. “I’m going to give you a steroid to help with some of the pain, and it should open your throat up for twelve hours so you can at least get some liquid into you until you fall asleep again tonight. I think the high fever is likely causing the lethargy and dizziness. We’ll start you on antibiotics, and if your fever hasn’t dropped to 101 or lower by this time tomorrow, you need to come back.” Castiel nods his understanding. “If you’re not able to eat anything, you need to drink. A lot. Even if it hurts. Otherwise you’re going to wind up right back here with an IV, and since you don’t have any insurance, it’s going to cost you a pretty penny. Capisce?”

Castiel nods again.

“Don’t worry Doc, I’ll get it into him if I have to shove it down his throat,” Dean promises.

Castiel glares at him, and the doctor chuckles. “For some reason, I believe you.”

He writes on his prescription pad and then tears it off to hand it to Dean. “Make sure you fill this right away. The faster he gets the antibiotics into him, the faster he’ll start feeling better. The bacteria that causes strep throat is contagious via direct contact until a day after he starts his antibiotics. So keep your lips to yourselves, and don’t share cups or utensils or anything when you’re at home, okay? I’ll go grab the steroid and bring it right back for you. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Pretty damn sure me bein’ your fake husband is the closest I’m ever gonna get to marriage.” Dean grins, and Castiel just rolls his eyes at him. “If you get me sick I’m gonna to kill you, by the way.”

The doctor comes back with a paper cup full of water and a single pill in his hand in a pop-out pack. “I know it hurts, but if you swallow this you’ll start feeling better within a half hour.”

“And then you can have coffee,” Dean adds.

“ _After_ a glass of water,” Dr. Rivet insists. “Coffee is dehydrating. But necessary.”

Castiel nods his head, pops the pill out of the packet and into his mouth, and swallows it down with the water and a grimace, clutching at his throat again in pain.

Dr. Rivet nods at him and turns to Dean again. “I can’t stress enough how important it is that he ups his fluid intake.”

“I got it,” Dean assures him.

“You let your husband take care of you, okay?” Castiel nods. “Take care, Castiel,” Dr. Rivet says before he walks out of the room.

“Okay, hubby, on your feet.”

Castiel makes a sound of protest in his throat, then winces again and stands up, wrapping himself in the blanket as Dean’s arm comes around his waist. They walk slowly back out to the car, and Dean drives them back to Castiel’s place. He gets him into his house and onto the couch, then takes off again to get his prescription filled for him. Castiel falls asleep when he leaves, and when he wakes up to the sound of the door opening again, Dean is there with a bag full of stuff and take-out coffee in his hand.

“Got everything I know of that helps a sore throat, plus your drugs.” Dean fills a glass at the kitchen and brings in the bottle. He shakes out a pill and places it in Castiel’s hand, and Castiel grimaces again when he swallows it down. “Feeling any better yet?” Dean asks him, and Castiel shakes his head. “Shouldn’t be much longer. I got fixings for mom’s chicken noodle soup, which isn’t as good as her tomato rice but I figured it’d be better on your throat. Got freeze pops, popsicles, lozenges, that throat numbing spray shit, and some NyQuil to help you sleep tonight.”

“Coffee,” Castiel whispers.

“Oh right, got you coffee, too,” Dean remembers, going back to the kitchen to grab it for him. When he comes back, he holds it just out of his reach, though. “Can’t have it ‘til you finish that glass of water.” Castiel scowls at him. “Doctor’s orders.” Castiel drinks the water a mouthful at a time, shooting Dean death glares every time he swallows. By the time he’s finished it, it feels less like glass shards are in his throat and more like it’s grains of sand. Dean gives him the coffee and says, “If you hate me now, you’re really gonna hate me by the end of the day.”

“Don’t hate you,” Castiel whispers before he takes a drink of the coffee. His eyes close in a moment of euphoria. It still hurts to swallow, but it doesn’t make him want to cry, and he takes that as a win. “Thank you.”

“What’re friends for, right?”

Castiel thinks all of this is a bit above and beyond for a friend, but he doesn’t say so. Dean sits beside him, and Castiel has to resist the urge to drop his head onto his shoulder again. Their thighs are pressed together though, so Castiel will take that instead of pushing his luck.

“You don’t have to stay all day,” Castiel tells him, now that using his voice isn’t making him want to cry in pain.

“I know you think I’m a dick, but I’m not  _that_ big of a dick. You could barely even stand up a half hour ago. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“I don’t know what I would have done today without you,” he admits. “Thank you.”

“You woulda done the same for me,” Dean says quickly.

 _Yes, but I’m head over heels in love with you._ Castiel nods his head anyway. “I would,” he says simply, drinking his coffee.

“Starting to feel a bit better, yeah?”

“Yes, a bit. I’m still shivering though,” he complains.

Dean lifts a hand to his forehead. “You’re still burning up. Doctor never really said what to do to make it go down.”

“My impression was that the antibiotics would help, which is why I have a day for it to drop.”

“I didn’t pick up on that,” Dean admits. “Was too worried watching you to make sure you didn’t keel over.”

“You’re a very good friend,” Castiel tells him.

“Got lotsa practice from takin’ care of Sam when he was younger. Mom was always there, but for whatever reason, he always wanted me. I’m just glad I didn’t have to do the airplane thing to get you to swallow your pill.”

“Now that I know it’s an option…” Castiel jokes.

“Ah, you must be feelin’ better if you’re back to teasing me,” Dean smiles.

“I think the coffee is bringing me back to life.’

Dean snorts. “Should’ve figured.” There’s a small pause before he adds, “Since you’re feelin’ a bit better, do you think you could choke down some oatmeal if I make it for you?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel answers honestly.

“If there’s even a chance I can get some food into you, I’ll give it a shot. Be right back,” he promises.

Ten minutes later, Dean comes into the living room with two bowls. Castiel goes to reach for one but Dean says, “No, yours is the other one.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The five pounds of brown sugar in yours,” Dean answers, which makes Castiel smile.

“It’s kind of unbelievable how well you know me. I was surprised how easily you filled out those forms earlier.”

Dean shrugs and pulls the coffee table closer to them. “Guess that’s what happens when you hang out with somebody every day. I was kinda disappointed with your middle name, by the way, since you have such a weird first name. Thought it would’ve been something I could harass you about.”

“At least I’m not named after a girl,” Castiel shoots back.

“Yeah, because an angel is sooo much better.”

“If the shoe fits,” Castiel smiles.

“Casserella,” Dean says again, and Castiel laughs.

“You’re a dork.”

“Shut up and eat your oatmeal. I slaved over a hot stove for you for ten whole minutes, you know,” Dean reminds him.

Castiel isn’t even a little bit hungry, but Dean  _did_ make this for him, and he’s going to at least try to eat it. The first bite goes down a little rougher than he expected, and he barely manages to contain his wince, but he does. He takes a smaller bite the next time, and that’s much better, so he keeps doing that.

“Okay?” Dean checks.

“I just have to put less in my mouth, and I’m fine,” Castiel explains.

Dean smirks. “That’s what she said.”

“You are a child,” Castiel chastises him, but he can’t help but smile at the joke.

Castiel gets full about halfway through the over-full bowl of oatmeal, but powers through a few more bites before he just can’t eat anymore. “That’s it. I give. I can’t eat another bite.”

“No biggie. I’m freakin’ thrilled you ate any of it. I’ll get rid of this for you,” Dean offers, taking both of their bowls and bringing them to the kitchen for him. He comes back with another glass of water, but doesn’t insist Castiel drink it this time. “You should lay down and take a nap now that you’re all fed and watered,” Dean suggests, still standing.

“I am pretty tired,” Castiel realizes.

“Want me to help you get upstairs?”

“I think I’ll just nap here, if you don’t mind,” Castiel says.

“Your house. I’m just here to keep an eye on you.”

Castiel scooches down on the couch and gets himself as comfortable as he can. Honestly, his couch is terribly uncomfortable to sleep on, but he doesn’t want to leave Dean. He curls up, bringing his feet to his chest, and Dean taps the bottom of his foot. Castiel looks up at him and Dean says, “Mind if I sit here and watch TV or do you want me to go make myself busy elsewhere?”

“I would prefer if you stayed,” Castiel answers sleepily.

“You got it, buddy.”

Castiel thinks absently that Dean’s been calling him that a lot lately. Maybe because it feels like a little punch to his stomach every time he hears it, knowing how badly he wants to be so much more than Dean’s buddy. But, for the millionth time, he tells himself how lucky he is to have Dean in his life the way that he is. He’s never had such a good friend before, and he reminds himself to be thankful for what he has instead of always pining for what he knows will never be. He manages to drift off to sleep with a small smile on his face, which comes even easier when he feels Dean pull his feet into his lap.

When he wakes up, he can already tell he’s been sleeping for a while. Dean isn’t on the couch anymore, but Castiel can smell what must be soup cooking in the kitchen. He sits up, cursing the crick in his back, and notices that he’s extremely warm. He pulls the blanket off of him, and pushes his sweater sleeves up. He picks up the glass of water, and drinks it down even though it’s stale from sitting for too long. He runs his hand through his hair, which he knows must be an even worse mess than usual, and checks the time on the clock. 3:00. He slept for more than four hours. And he really, really has to pee.

He gets to his feet slowly, but his head isn’t spinning anymore, so he takes a tentative step and realizes he’s okay. He walks out of the living room to the kitchen and sees Dean stirring the soup.

“Hey, you’re alive!” Dean says excitedly. “That was one hell of a nap.”

“I must have been more tired than I realized. I need to urinate,” he divulges, and he hears Dean snort as he walks past him to the bathroom. After he relieves himself, he catches sight of himself in the mirror and grimaces. Sick is not a good look on him. His usually tanned skin somehow looks deathly pale. His hair is absolutely everywhere and curling around the edges from the sweat. His eyes are glassy, and he just looks generally awful. He groans, tries to wrangle his hair into some sort of order, and then gives up with a sigh. This is as good as it’s getting today.

“Why didn’t you tell me I look like hell?” Castiel asks Dean as he joins him in the kitchen again.

“I did!” Dean reminds him. “You gave me the look of death, remember?”

“I can’t believe you let me go out in public like this.”

“You looked way worse a few hours ago, man. Your face was all red and you were covered in sweat,” Dean tells him

“Gee, thanks for letting me know.”

“Thankfully, my handsome face attracts all the attention anyway,” Dean jokes. “Nobody was lookin’ at you.”

“Now that I can believe,” Castiel agrees, and Dean’s cheeks go a little red. Which is weird, because he’s the one who brought it up.

“The soup’s done. Just keepin’ warm now. I was thinking we could have it for a late lunch, but now I’m thinking we might as well wait for dinner. You want a freeze pop or something while we wait?”

Castiel nods. “I want blue.”

“I like red,” Dean comments. He grabs them both one and cuts the tops off before they go back to the living room. “Star Wars marathon?” Dean asks.

Castiel shrugs. “Sure. We have lots of time to kill anyway.”

So that’s how they spend the rest of the day. Dean makes sure Castiel drinks more water than Castiel thinks is strictly necessary, but he’s so annoying Castiel drinks it just to make him shut the hell up. He serves him the soup he made him from scratch, and when Castiel falls asleep and slumps against Dean’s shoulder after that, Dean doesn’t wake him up until it’s time for his next dose of antibiotics. Castiel apologizes for drooling on Dean’s shoulder, but Dean just laughs and says he’s happy to see the proof that he was properly hydrated.

Dean goes up to Castiel’s bedroom with him to make sure he doesn’t fall on the stairs, and waits while Castiel brushes his teeth and gets into bed. Dean offers to stay but as much as Castiel would  _love_ sleeping with Dean next to him again, he doesn’t trust himself to share a bed with Dean after the last time, so he declines kindly and tells him he’s done more than enough already and that he deserves a good night’s sleep tonight in his own bed.

Surprisingly, Dean doesn’t argue. He tells Castiel that he has the day shift tomorrow and that he’ll stop by first thing in the morning to check on him, and then Castiel is alone for the first time all day. He falls asleep quickly while remembering how perfect it felt to be as close to Dean as he was all day long.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

It’s the beginning of June. It’s been a week since Castiel came down with strep throat, and he’s finally back to feeling like himself again. He happily takes his last dose of antibiotics and sends Dean a text message of the empty pill bottle. He gets back a clapping hand emoji, and he smiles to himself.

Dean has been so kind to him since he’s been sick. He didn’t think it was possible, but he’s fallen even deeper in love with him now that he’s seen his softer side. He was still annoying as hell and by the end of day three of Dean still texting him constantly to drink water, Castiel told him to fuck off in no uncertain terms, but the point is, Dean was taking care of him, and Castiel can’t even remember the last time somebody cared about him enough to do that for him.

He’s pulled away from his thoughts when his phone starts ringing. He assumes it’s Dean, but is surprised when he sees his caller ID. He lets out a long sigh and thanks the universe he didn’t have to deal with whatever this is going to be a week ago. Nothing with Gabriel is ever easy, including phone calls.

“Hello,” Castiel answers the phone.

“Cassie! How you doin’ little bro?” Gabriel booms over the phone.

“I have told you multiple times not to call me that,” Castiel reminds him.

“Why do you think I keep doing it?” Gabriel answers, and Castiel can practically hear the devilish smile in his voice. “So listen up, tiger, I’m calling with some good news!”

“I can hardly wait,” Castiel deadpans.

“I found a reasonably attractive guy who likes dick  _and_ who lives in your neighborhood! Can you believe that!? There’s two openly gay guys in all of Wichita Falls!”

“As astounding as that is, I’m not interested in dating anybody right now,” Castiel tells him.

“Why the hell not? You tryin’ to let your virginity grow back or something?”

Castiel frowns because the dig is a little too close to the truth for comfort. It’s been a  _really_ long time, even for him. “The reason isn’t important, I’m just not interested right now.”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I kind of set you up already. And if you don’t show, he’ll think you’re a dick.”

“Then cancel!” Castiel exclaims.

“No can do, Cassie. I gave him your address and lost his phone number,” Gabriel says, and Castiel  _knows_ the jerk is smiling at the brilliance of his plan. Castiel hates to think anybody is mad at him, and he can’t stand the thought of this random man coming to his house only to be stood up because of his idiotic brother.

“When is it?” he says through gritted teeth.

“Ah, that’s the angel we all know and love! He’s coming over tonight. Three hours from now. You’re going for coffee.”

“ _Tonight?_ ” Castiel shouts. “Jesus, Gabriel!”

“I didn’t want to give you time to back out,” he explains. Castiel takes a deep breath to calm himself.

“What’s his name?” Castiel asks.

“Alan. Let me know how it goes,” Gabriel says, and hangs up without another word.

Castiel is so preoccupied with thinking about how he's going on a blind date for the first time in his life he completely forgets about Dean coming by like he usually does after work on Thursday’s. Today he works until 6:00, so Castiel makes sure to shower before he comes over so he can at least have a little bit of time to spend with him before he has to leave. He throws on the same clothes he was wearing earlier hoping Dean will be able to help him pick out what he should wear.

Dean ends up being late and lets himself in with an explanation of his coworker’s kid throwing up and having to find a replacement. Castiel thinks for the hundredth time that he does not envy Dean his job.

“Bad day to come over late. I have to leave in about twenty minutes,” Castiel explains.

“Really? You got an appointment or something?” Dean asks, understandably confused.

“I have a date,” he explains.

Dean’s eyes almost bulge out of his head. “You have a date?” Dean repeats.

“Yes,” Castiel sighs. “He’s going to be here in twenty minutes, and I don't know what to wear. He's taking me out for coffee, apparently. Can you help me? You go out a lot more than I do,” Castiel says, feeling a pit in his stomach at the thought.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Dean answers somewhat awkwardly. Castiel doesn't have time to worry about that right now, though. He runs up the stairs and grabs two shirts. Both button-ups. One plain blue, and one that’s checkered black and white. He strips off his t-shirt and bolts back down the stairs as he buttons up the checkered shirt. He turns to face Dean, who is sitting on the arm of his couch, and then does a little spin to show him. Dean nods absently, and Castiel unbuttons the first shirt to get the second one on.

“I don't even know this guy. Gabriel set it all up without even telling me and gave the guy my address. I don't know a thing about him other than his name is Alan and he’s into men. It's going to be unbelievably awkward,” he babbles nervously. Dean looks… off, he finally notices. Sick or something. Maybe he's coming down with the same thing as that kid had? He gets the impression Dean hasn't heard a word he’s said. He finally gets the second shirt buttoned all the way up and he turns around for Dean again to show him how it looks from behind. “This one or the last one?” Castiel asks him.

There is a beat of silence and Dean looks straight down at the ground before he says very, very quietly, “Don't go tonight.”

Castiel’s concerned now. Dean really must not be feeling well if he wants him to stay home. He realizes he hasn't gotten a good look at Dean since he came in, and closes the distance between them to crouch in front of him and look up at his face.

Dean looks… weird. His face is red, and his eyes are glassy, and he looks a little sweaty. Something about him seems smaller, too. The way he's holding himself, maybe? “Is something wrong?” Castiel asks.

Dean looks right into his eyes, and in that moment Castiel sees fear. Dean’s scared. He doesn’t know what he’s afraid of until Dean answers, “I don't want you to go out with anybody else.”

Castiel squints his eyes in confusion. What is he talking about? Castiel hasn't been out with anybody since he's known Dean. “Anybody else? Anybody else other than who?”

Dean’s face is turning a rather alarming shade of red. “Other than me,” Dean replies.

Castiel can feel his eyes widen in complete shock, and he stands to take a few steps away from Dean. This is a joke. Or he's hallucinating or something. Dean’s straight. That's ultimately what comes out. “But… you said you’re straight.”

Dean winces. “I know. I am. But I… I feel something towards you. Something more than friendship. And when I think about you dating or kissing somebody else I feel like I’m gonna puke,” Dean says, still looking embarrassed and unsure of what he’s saying. Does he really look this sick because he’s thinking about Castiel going on a date? Dean  _feels something_ towards him? Castiel isn’t necessarily surprised to hear that part, especially after how amazing he was with him over the last week. But does Dean want all of what he wants?

“Are you attracted to me?” Castiel questions him, kind of afraid to hear the answer. If Dean says no at this point he thinks he might actually cry.

“Y-yes,” Dean answers, and his voice cracks on the single word.

Castiel feels shock expand through his body at the same time his heart goes out to Dean. To believe you’re straight your entire life and then have to admit to this, to being attracted to a man for the first time - to his  _best friend_ of all people - has to be extremely difficult. But before Castiel can say anything Dean starts talking again.

“I know the guy you’re supposed to go out with is probably a hundred times better than I am. I know I’m nothin’ special and I just own a bar and I’m not as smart as you and Sammy are, so I get it if you don’t like me back.” Castiel cannot believe these words are actually coming from Dean’s mouth. Not like him back? Is he kidding? “But I, uh, I just can’t sit here and watch anymore of this. I should just go,” he says quickly. He stands up and starts walking towards the door before Castiel can make any kind of sense out of everything Dean just said.

Dean stops when there’s a knock on Castiel’s front door.

_Shit._ He is going to  _kill_ Gabriel for this.

“Fucking great,” Dean swears. “I’ll go wait downstairs ‘til you leave and then I’ll let myself out,” Dean offers. He walks back towards Castiel and Castiel stops him.

“Wait here,” he tells him.

Dean looks even more uncomfortable. “I really don’t wanna see -”

“I said wait here,” Castiel repeats, voice a little bit harder. Dean nods his head and waits.

Castiel takes a deep breath and walks towards the door.

The man standing there is in fact attractive. He’ll give Gabriel that much. But he isn’t Dean, and that’s really the only thing that matters. Alan, he remembers belatedly, is checking him out as well and isn’t exactly subtle about conveying that he likes what he sees. Alan smiles at him nervously and says, “You look incredible.”

Castiel smiles kindly and says, “Thank you. I am so sorry to have to do this to you, but I’m afraid I can’t go out with you tonight.”

Alan looks extremely surprised, and Castiel can’t even blame him. “What? Why?”

Castiel doesn’t think before he turns towards Dean behind him and smiles at him. He smiles sadly at Alan and says, “It seems as though me agreeing to go on this date with you has motivated the man I’ve been in love with for the last three months to admit he might also have feelings for me.”

Alan looks over his shoulder at Dean standing there, and then back at Castiel and nods his understanding. “I get it. I, um, hope it works out for you.”

Castiel sighs, thankful that Alan didn’t make it any more awkward than it had to be. “I appreciate you understanding. Have a nice evening,” Castiel says, closing the door between them. He turns back to Dean and finds him still standing there, wide eyed, with a look as close to panic as Castiel has ever seen on his face. He tries to help him feel comfortable again with a little bit of humor. “That was sufficiently awkward,” he teases, getting a tiny little smile from Dean in response. “You had to wait until five minutes before he showed up to tell me?”

Dean looks a little guilty, but says, “I - I didn’t know what I was feeling.”

Castiel shakes his head. He can’t believe this is happening. He doesn’t know what the right thing to say is. “I don’t know who’s more confused about this, Dean, you or me.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel doesn’t want him to be sorry. He wants him to know how much he cares about him, and how much he’s wanted this for longer than he should have. But he also doesn’t want to scare him away. He takes another step towards Dean so that there isn’t as much space between them. “Don’t be sorry,” he says gently. “This is everything I’ve been trying not to dream about for the last half a year since I met you, and it only got increasingly difficult when I realized I had such strong feelings for you three months ago.” Castiel waits for Dean to meet his eyes and then asks the question he’s been thinking about since the day they met. “Do you feel this… connection between us the way I do?”

Dean swallows obviously and nods his head. Castiel realizes they’re both breathing a little harder than usual. Nerves? Something else? Dean seems to answer his question carefully. “I… I feel pulled to you all the time, and I don’t feel better unless I’m close to you. Touching you.”

“So touch me,” Castiel blurts. The words come out so easily. This is everything he’s wanted for so long he can barely believe it’s happening. “As little or as much as you want to.” He smiles as softly as he can, trying to hide how desperate he is, before he adds, “I’ve wanted you to for  _so long_.”

Castiel holds himself perfectly still when Dean’s hands reach for him. They close around his wrists first, and Dean’s eyes seem glued to the sight of his hands on Castiel. Dean runs his hands up his arms to his shoulders, both of their eyes following the movement, and Castiel has to resist a full body shudder. Dean’s hands are on him, and he still can’t believe this is happening. Dean’s eyes lift to his face, and he spends a long time looking at him. Castiel takes the opportunity to take in every line of Dean’s face. He wants to remember this moment, whatever it is, in its entirety. Castiel can see Dean staring at his lips, and his heartbeat kicks up even faster.

This could be happening.

This could actually be happening.

Then Dean’s hands come up to cup his face, and Castiel lets out a breathy little sound. He can’t help it. He wants this, he has wanted this, for so long. He’s thought about this, and dreamed about this, and tried not to hope for it, and it’s about to happen. Castiel isn’t the only one freaking out, if the tremor in Dean’s hand is anything to go by. Then their eyes lock, and Castiel’s mouth goes dry when Dean leans in slowly and lightly presses his lips to Castiel’s for the first time.

It’s perfect. It’s everything Castiel ever hoped it would be and never thought he’d get to have.

Castiel doesn’t dare respond the way every fiber of his being is begging him to. The worst thing that could possibly happen right now is for Castiel to lose his head and devour Dean the way he wants to. He absolutely cannot do anything that would cause Dean to react negatively. Dean pulls away only millimeters before he brushes his lips against Castiel’s again, slightly firmer this time, and when he does it a third time, Castiel finally kisses him back. Just as light, just as gentle, and just as chaste. Just to show him that he wants this, too.

Dean takes him completely by surprise when he runs his tongue across the opening of his mouth, and Castiel gasps in shock. Dean takes the opportunity to push his tongue into his mouth, and when Castiel responds by sliding his tongue against it, the connection between them explodes with sexual chemistry.

Castiel groans with unrestrained desire, and Dean steps closer to him, erasing any space there was between their bodies. Castiel finally lets himself move and slides his hands around Dean’s waist. Just being able to feel Dean’s body like this has Castiel losing a tiny bit of his restraint, and his fingers dig into Dean’s strong back - holy shit  _that back_ \- before he pulls him even closer.

There is no doubt in Castiel’s mind now that Dean is attracted to him, because he can feel Dean’s erection pressed against his, and he feels as if his entire body has been electrocuted.

Dean pulls away and breaks their kiss, and Castiel is thinking,  _Stupid! Stupid! You moved too fast! You freaked him out!_

But Dean’s just looking at him like he’s seeing him for the first time and  _really_ liking what he sees. Dean’s lips are shiny with spit, and his eyes are dark, and he looks like he enjoyed that kiss every bit as much as Castiel did.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathes.

“I -” Castiel starts, then doesn’t even know what to say. I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to pull you in so close? I’m really fucking horny and knowing you’re hard too is making me want to fuck you right here on the floor?

His thoughts are interrupted by Dean saying, “Why the fuck didn’t I do that sooner?”

The tension breaks between them after that and they both burst into nervous laughter.

That was amazing, hands down the best kiss Castiel has ever had, but this is Dean!  _Dean_! His best friend! What the hell are they supposed to do now?

Dean answers the question for him when he leans back in and captures Castiel’s mouth with another searing kiss. Castiel gives himself over to the moment happily. Dean’s a fantastic kisser. He takes the kiss from hot, to slow and lingering, back to desperate and needy with his teeth scraping his bottom lip.

Dean pulls away just enough to speak, but Castiel doesn’t stop kissing him. “Is it always like this with another guy?” Dean asks against Castiel’s lips.

“Never,” Castiel answers easily. “Never like this.”

“Fuck, me neither. I’m about to come in my pants,” Dean says, and a laugh huffs out of Castiel at both the admission and the absurdity of his best friend telling him that. He has no idea what he’s supposed to say. He would  _really_ like to help Dean out with the erection he can see pressing against the denim of his jeans, but he doesn’t want to scare him. Should they even jump into bed together right away? What about their friendship? Is this a relationship? Castiel has no idea what’s going on.

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do right now,” Castiel admits.

“You’re the gay one!” Dean exclaims and Castiel laughs.

“Not with  _that_ ,” he clarifies, gesturing at Dean’s erection. Dean goes a little red faced and Castiel kisses him again. He’s adorable. “I mean with us. I think we need to ignore our hormones for a minute and talk about this.”

Dean runs his hands through his hair and says, “Shit. Yeah. I guess you’re probably right.”

Castiel walks over to the couch and sits down. Dean sits beside him, as close as they always do, and Castiel doesn’t hesitate to reach over and place his hand on his knee. He can do that now. He hopes. He looks at Dean and looks at his hand, then back up at Dean. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean answers quickly.

“Can I hold your hand?” Castiel asks.

Dean shrugs. “Whatever. Maybe not, you know, in front of people.”

Castiel nods. He was expecting that. “So,” he says.

“You’re in love with me?” Dean blurts.

Castiel nods slowly. “Yes. I’m sorry I told you like that. It’s probably a little bit overwhelming with everything else you’re feeling right now.”

“Nah. Don’t be sorry,” Dean disagrees, voice quiet. “It uh, surprisingly feels really nice to hear somebody other than family say that for once.”

“I’ve been in love with you for months,” Castiel confesses, feeling a weight come off of him just finally being able to say the words out loud. “I kept trying not to be because I thought I never had a chance with you. But Dean, you’re so…”

“Hot?” Dean finishes for him, smirking.

“That certainly didn’t help matters at all for me. But no, that’s not what I was going to say. You being physically attractive isn’t what made me fall in love with you. It’s how kind you are. Your big heart. How you know so much about so many things. Your sense of humor. Your stupid 80’s rock music. How obsessed you are with your car. How you kept touching me just to make me smile. It was impossible not to love you.”

Dean’s smiling at him but Castiel is suddenly afraid he’s said too much. “I dunno what to say, Cas. Nobody’s ever said that kinda shit to me before. Feels really fucking good, but…”

“You don’t feel the same way about me.” Dean nods, but looks sad about it. He really shouldn't. “That’s okay,” Castiel says honestly, taking the chance to hold his hand like Dean said he could. He wants to cry at how perfectly their fingers fit together. “I was never expecting you to say it back. The fact that you even wanted to kiss me is still kind of blowing my mind,” he tells him.

“The fact that I want to jump you is still kinda blowing my mind,” Dean says, smirking again.

“I’m not opposed to that if you’re not. But… I don’t want this to just be sex.”

Dean frowns. “You think I’d do that to you?”

“To be fair, that’s pretty much the only way you ever do it,” Castiel says, frowning back.

Dean rolls his eyes. “I told you I have feelings for you. You’re not some random chick. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Cas. I don’t want to fuck this up any more than you do.”

Castiel breathes a sigh of relief. “So what  _do_ you want?”

There's a moment of silence and then Dean says, “I don’t want you to date anybody else, that’s for damn sure.”

Castiel smiles. “I don’t want to date anybody else, so that works out fine for me. I feel the same way about you, though. I don’t want you to sleep around anymore if you don’t want me to date anybody.”

“I haven’t fucked anybody else in months. I’m not gonna start now.”

Castiel’s surprised and his face breaks out with a big smile. “Months? Really?” Dean nods. “Why?”

“Started feeling weird about it. Felt weird spending all my time with you and then fucking somebody else, and coming over here the next day pretending like it didn’t happen when we both knew it did. And I could tell you didn’t like it either.”

“I did try to be subtle,” Castiel says with a smaller smile on his lips.

“Well you blew at it,” Dean says quickly, smiling back at him.

“So you’re not going to sleep with anybody and I’m not going to date anybody but you. So what? We’re dating now?” Castiel asks.

Dean sighs. “Don’t you feel like we did all that shit already? We already know all the boring crap about each other we need to know.”

“Gee, you’re so romantic,” Castiel says dryly.

Dean shrugs unapologetically. “I’m really not. I’m probably never gonna be romantic or whatever. I’m probably gonna be a really shitty boyfriend because I haven’t been one for about fifteen years. But I wanna try. I wanna be with you. I wanna touch you without overthinking what it means, and I really, really wanna kiss you again.”

“You said boyfriend,” Castiel points out.

Dean laughs. “You’re like a 12 year old. Yes, I said boyfriend. You wanna be boyfriends, Cas?” Dean says it like he’s teasing him, but Castiel can see some of his uncertainty, too.

Castiel’s smile comes quickly. “If that’s what you want.”

“I just want things to be the way they always have been. But I want to kiss you, and I really want to have sex again. With you,” Dean confesses. “If that means we’re boyfriends, then fine.”

Castiel tries to ignore the desire building in his stomach. “You’re making it very difficult for me to move slowly with you like I feel like I should.”

“Why do you think you should? I'm not exactly a blushing virgin over here, ya know.”

“Maybe because up until ten minutes ago neither of us knew you were into guys?” Castiel says sarcastically.

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not into  _guys_. I’m almost 34 years old and I’ve literally never been attracted to a guy before you in my entire life. I don’t exactly get it, but it’s not guys, Cas. It’s just you.”

Castiel’s a little surprised by that. “And you want to have sex with me?”

Dean squirms a little in his seat. “I haven’t really thought too much about what would go where, ya know, technically speaking, but if you can make me feel like you did when we were kissing, I don’t think I’m gonna care much either way.”

_Wow_. He did not expect him to say that. Castiel knows he should know better, but he definitely would’ve pegged Dean as a top only. Castiel actually prefers to top himself, but he’d do just about anything with Dean… and these thoughts are not helping anything at all.

“I’m afraid I’m going to do something that’s going to make you uncomfortable,” Castiel admits.

“Don't ask me to stick my tongue up your ass and I think we’re probably good,” Dean says quickly.

Castiel bursts out laughing. “I actually enjoy that quite a bit, but I can probably restrain myself from asking you.”

“Can we make out now? Since we’re boyfriends and shit? I’ve still got a situation goin’ on down here,” Dean says, gesturing to his prominent erection.

“Are you sure?” Castiel asks.

“Damn sure,” Dean smirks.

“Okay. But no skin to skin or mouths to skin beneath the belt. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but well, you’ve had a lot of partners. And I want to protect myself.”

Dean frowns. “How’re you gonna get me off if you won’t touch me?”

Castiel grins wolfishly. “I can think of several ways,” he answers, and he sees arousal flash in Dean’s eyes.

“Show me,” Dean asks him, and Castiel can hardly hold back his groan.

“If I do anything you don’t want me to, or you feel uncomfortable or weird or off at any moment, just tell me and we can stop, okay?” Castiel reassures him.

“Would you just fucking kiss me already?” Dean asks again, and Castiel can’t wait any longer anyway.

He leans over to close the few inches of space between their faces and captures Dean’s lips between his. Dean parts his lips for him right away, and Castiel licks into his mouth, chasing the taste of Dean. His lips feel just as plush and full against his as he always dreamed they would, and he fights back the image of them stretched tight around his cock. A small sound escapes him and Dean’s hand buries itself in his hair on the back of his head, holding him in place. Dean’s tongue pushes deeper into his mouth, his lips pressing hard against his, and his hand gripping tight in his hair. Dean is in absolute control of this kiss and a part of Castiel loves it, so he happily lets Dean take the lead.

Castiel focuses instead on finally being able to touch as much of Dean as he wants to. He brushes his thumb across his cheekbone, then drags his fingers down the hard line of his jaw, loving the scratch of his stubble beneath the tips of his fingers. He cups the back of his neck, then trails his hand down the slope of that neck onto his shoulder. He splays his palm along the back of his shoulder, digging his fingers into his shirt before he continues down his arm and grasps his bulging bicep. He can’t hold back the moan that comes out of him. Dean is in excellent physical shape, and finally being able to have his hands on him the way he’s wanted to for six months is unbelievable.

“Mmmf you’re so hot, Cas,” Dean says against his lips.

Castiel lets out a small whimper when Dean’s mouth trails down the side of his face, his mouth hot on Castiel’s skin. “Dean,” Castiel gasps, when his tongue traces the shell of his ear. He can feel how hard Dean’s breath is coming against his ear, and it turns him on further to know how much Dean is into this. Dean works his earlobe between his teeth, and Castiel’s skin erupts with goosebumps, and his nipples begin harden.

The sensation has him finally taking his hand off of Dean’s bicep and running it over his chest. Fuck, he’s firm. He finds Dean’s nipple beneath his shirt and rubs his thumb over it, which elicits a soft sound from Dean for the first time. Castiel pulls back from Dean’s lips and asks, “Can I take your shirt off?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean answers quickly. “Yours is comin’ off, too, though.”

Castiel smiles when Dean pulls his own shirt up over his head, and before he gets lost worshiping his broad chest, he pulls his shirt off, too.

“Fuck,” Dean curses, staring at Cas’s body.

“I knew you were checking me out that day,” Castiel hears himself say.

Dean laughs, nervously this time though. “I got half hard just lookin’ at you.”

“I got off thinking about you looking at me,” Castiel admits, and Dean groans again.

“Touch me, Cas,” Dean asks him, and he doesn’t have to ask twice.

Castiel pushes him until he’s lying flat on his back on the couch, and then Castiel lowers his mouth to the patch of naked skin closest to him, which happens to be the space directly between his belly button and the waistband of his jeans. Castiel nips at the skin with his teeth, which makes Dean squirm and Castiel exhale a soft huff of laughter. He places his hands on Dean’s rib cage and drags them up slowly in time with his tongue licking a trail past his belly button and up the middle of his stomach. He drops open-mouthed kisses on his way up, and he brushes his nipples with his thumbs when his hands reach his chest. Dean lets out a quiet moan and Castiel smiles at finding something that he likes. His mouth replaces one of his hands, and he circles his nipple with his tongue before he sucks it into his mouth. Dean moans louder and Castiel pulls it between his teeth. He kisses it chastely before he moves his mouth away and sits up on his knees.

“You’re sensitive there,” Castiel comments.

“Apparently,” Dean agrees, making Castiel laugh. Castiel pushes Dean’s legs apart and lays his body on top of Dean’s, making sure to line up their erections so that they press against each other.

The first nudge of his erection against Dean’s makes Dean’s hips buck up even through both of their jeans, and that makes Castiel groan. He nods, telling Dean that’s exactly what he wants him to do, and then continues to explore the exposed skin of Dean’s throat as Dean moves against him. Each time his teeth scrapes Dean’s skin he makes a sound, and finally, Castiel gives into his instincts and latches onto a spot low on his neck and bites and sucks until he’s sure it’s going to leave a mark. Possessiveness flares in his chest and he tries to bury it down by finally finding Dean’s lips again.

He starts rolling his hips against Dean’s, which makes Dean’s mouth pop open on a sigh. “I’m so fuckin’ hard for you, Cas. This feels so good.”

“For me, too,” Castiel promises him. He hitches one of Dean’s legs around his waist and Dean throws his head back with a hiss. “You’re so sexy, Dean. You don’t know how much I’ve thought about seeing you like this.” He realizes belatedly that Dean’s hands are lying uselessly at his sides. “Put your hands on me,” he asks.

Dean’s eyes pop open and he seems to come back to himself a little bit. His hands come up and run down Cas’s back, which makes his eyes close with pleasure. Feeling those big, strong hands on him, finally knowing how Dean’s palms feel pressing into his back has him thrusting against him faster and harder.

“Your back. So fucking hot. So ripped. Goddamnit this is hot,” Dean curses. “I’m not gonna last, Cas. Been too long.”

Castiel chuckles before he kisses him again, passionately. “You have no idea how close I am already. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Want you,” Dean says against his lips, and Castiel feels the thrill of his words thrum through his body. He sucks the tip of Dean’s tongue into his mouth and swallows his moan. Dean turns his head and squeezes his eyes closed tight. Castiel kisses the side of his face, down to the bolt of his jaw, and feels the way Dean’s mouth moves under his lips. “I’m gonna -  _fuck_ \- I’m gonna come, Cas.”

Castiel scrapes his teeth along his scruff and whispers, “I’m with you. Everything feels so good with you.”

Dean’s fingers press harder against his skin, and he feels the bite of his blunt fingernails likely breaking the skin, and when he hears breathy little sounds start escaping from Dean’s lips, he knows he’s close. Dean’s breath comes out in a shuddering sigh and his hips stutter, and Castiel  _knows_ he’s coming by the way his body locks up, and the realization that Dean is coming because of him sends Castiel’s orgasm barreling into him with wave after wave of unbelievable pleasure. He buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and rocks into him as he rides it out.

He’s absolutely blissed out with happiness after an incredible orgasm, and he lays there for a minute while he tries to catch his breath. He’s only brought back to earth when he notices the way Dean’s body goes tense and his hands stop stroking his back.  _Here we go_ , Castiel thinks to himself. This is the part where Dean’s going to freak out and scream and yell that he isn’t gay. He swallows thickly and pushes himself up to his elbows to check on him.

He looks... okay, actually. Really, he looks fucked out in a way Castiel thought he’d only ever get to see him in his wildest dreams. And  _he_ did this to him!

“Are you alright?” Castiel asks gently.

Dean arches a brow. “Pretty freakin’ great, actually.”

Castiel smiles. “You’re not freaking out?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not about anything other than the gross feeling of cum in my pants,” he answers, which makes Castiel laugh.

“I feel you. You can wear some of my sweatpants if you want.”

“After we shower,” Dean insists.

“We?”

“You think I’m giving up any chance I have to see you naked now?” Dean asks incredulously, leaning up to brush his lips against Cas’s.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say no to you - ” Castiel begins.

“Then don’t!” Dean cuts in.

“- but I know you are not going to keep your hands to yourself, and I’m not letting you give me gonorrhea,” Castiel reminds him. “You shower down here, and I’ll shower upstairs.”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean whines. “Let me show you how I get myself off in the shower every morning.” Castiel lets out a needy little sound and Dean laughs. “Just joking. Even I can’t get it up again right away. Get off of me, loser,” he says with a push.

Castiel shakes his head at him as he gets to his feet. “I guess it would be stupid of me to assume that you would start being nice to me just because we’re together.”

“Always knew you were smart,” Dean says with a wink. Then he laughs again. “And no freakin’ wonder you kept blushing every time I winked at you. Since you’re all in love with me and shit. I just thought you just thought I was hot.”

Castiel huffs and rolls his eyes. “I’m questioning my judgement already.”

“Too bad you’re stuck with me now,” Dean grins, giving his ass a slap which makes Castiel yelp.

“Get away from me,” he says, not at all seriously, and Dean bursts out laughing again. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Dean so care-free.

“That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago,” Dean reminds him, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“I changed my mind. You can’t use my clothes anymore, either. You stay in your sticky boxers as your penance.”

Dean takes two big steps towards him and wraps his hands around his waist. Castiel melts against him instantly, and Dean lowers his head to kiss him soft and slow. Castiel actually feels his knees go weak, and his head starts spinning, and he completely loses himself in Dean - his Dean - and finally getting the chance to be like this with him.

Dean ends the kiss and drops his forehead against Cas’s. “We’re good, right? I can still be an asshole like I was a minute ago, or I can be like this, and you’ll still like me either way?”

“I don’t want you to change who you are,” Castiel answers quickly. “I already knew you were a dick before I fell for you. It’s not going to change how I feel now. If I’m actually upset or angry, I will tell you.”

“I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t wanna change what we already had.”

“I don’t want that either. We’ll figure it out, okay?” Castiel reassures him.

Dean nods. “You are gonna let me use those pants, right?”

Castiel chuckles. “Have I been able to say no to you so far?”

Dean smirks. “That’s really gonna work out well for me.”

“I’m aware,” Castiel answers dryly. “I’ll throw a pair down for you.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says, and then he pads down the hallway and disappears into the bathroom.

Castiel lets out a sigh of relief. Can moving from friendship to more with Dean really be this easy? He throws a pair of sweatpants down the stairs for him, and then gets into the shower himself. He can still taste Dean on his lips and remembers vividly what it feels like to have Dean clutching at him as he comes. He’s thought about that very thing so many times in this shower, that a pleased smile comes to his face when he realizes that he actually  _knows_ now.

He cleans himself off, then dries off, gets into pajamas, and heads back downstairs. Dean’s on the couch like he always is, and Cas sits beside him like he always does. Their hands find each other, and Cas lets his head drop onto Dean’s shoulder like he’s thought about doing a million times. It’s easy. It’s good.

He just hopes it can stay that way.

 

Two months. It’s been two months since Dean and Castiel shared their first kiss, and it’s been amazing. It’s been everything Castiel ever hoped it would be. It’s just him and Dean, the way they always have been, with a lot of orgasms thrown into the mix. If Castiel thought they had sexual chemistry before he was allowed to touch him, it is  _nothing_ compared to what they have now. They’ve gotten each other off almost every time they’ve seen each other, and he’s still amazed by how easy Dean seems to be about being with a man for the first time.

Dean hasn’t told Sam or anybody else about them being together, but it hasn’t been too bad since he’s only seen Sam the few times when he went to eat at the Roadhouse when Dean was stuck on more than one night shift in a row and Castiel started missing him. He didn’t expect Dean to treat him any differently, but he was surprised by how hard it was trying not to show affection towards him in public. He shook it off though. Two months isn’t very long to come to terms with coming out. He needs to remember that.

Dean gets off work at six tonight, so Castiel is assembling a plate of nachos for them to eat for dinner. He’s got them ready to go and the oven preheating when Dean comes through the door.

“Hey,” Dean grins at him.

“How was work?” Castiel asks.

“Forget work. Guess what I got in the mail?” Dean asks. Castiel doesn’t have a chance to answer him before a letter is thrust into his hands. “Read it!”

Castiel opens it up and sees that it’s Dean’s results from the STD tests Castiel asked him to get. It had taken almost six weeks to convince Dean to go. Dean was strangely against the idea of a doctor or nurse “touching his junk”, but as hard as it had been, Castiel stuck to his guns about no skin to skin, and that’s eventually what got Dean to go. Two weeks later, here he is with the results in his hand. Castiel scans the list and sees  _negative_ beside each and every one, and feels his smile spread across his face.

“Totally clean,” Castiel comments.

“Now we don’t have to worry about condoms, and you can finally suck my dick!” Dean exclaims.

Castiel laughs nervously, still not entirely used to the way Dean talks about sex. “I can, huh?”

Dean takes Castiel’s hand and presses it against the front of his jeans, where Castiel can feel his half hard cock. “I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day,” he explains, backing Castiel up against the kitchen counter.

Castiel feels his breath hitch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the rush he gets knowing that Dean is turned on by him. When Dean presses his cock against Castiel’s and starts rutting against him, Castiel lets his head drop back in pleasure. Dean nibbles his way up the curve of his neck and runs his tongue behind his ear. Castiel rubs his hand against Dean’s quickly hardening cock and feels it come to life beneath his palm. “You want me,” Castiel breathes, prompting Dean to say the words.

“Want you so bad, Cas. Want you to swallow my cock. Show me how good you are,” Dean asks him.

With practiced skill, Castiel spins them so that Dean’s the one with his back pressing into the kitchen counter. His hands find the fly of his jeans and then he’s popping the button and pulling down the zipper. Dean’s almost fully hard cock springs out when Castiel pulls down his jeans and boxers, and Castiel wastes no time stroking him to full hardness. Then he hooks his hands behind Dean’s knees and lifts him so that he sits on the counter.

“That’s cold on the ass — son of a bitch,” Dean gasps as Castiel grips the base of his cock and swirls his tongue around the tip.

It’s been a very long time since he’s done this, years even, and he almost forgot how much he enjoys it. He licks his way up and down Dean’s shaft, making sure it gets nice and wet while also making Dean squirm beneath him. He uses his other hand to open his fly and shove it down his pants, palming himself as he listens to Dean’s breathing come hard and fast.

He strokes Dean’s cock with his hand, soft and slow. He tilts his head to look up at Dean’s face and meets his usually bright green eyes, now dark with desire. He flicks his tongue across his slit, making Dean whimper, and he does it again, and again, swirling his tongue around the head between each lick.

“Quit teasing me,” Dean grumbles, and Castiel laughs softly.

“I want to taste you,” Castiel tells him. “I want to learn every thing that I can use to bring you pleasure.”

“Caaaas,” Dean whines.

“You’re so impatient,” Castiel chastises him, but he takes pity on him and wraps his lips around the head of his cock. He sucks lightly on the tip before he slowly takes his cock into the wet heat of his mouth, one inch at a time. Castiel’s hand frees his cock from his boxers, pumping himself in his hand, and groaning at how arousing it is to finally have the heavy weight of Dean’s cock resting against his tongue.

“Fuck, are you jerking yourself off right now?” Dean asks, his voice raw.

Castiel answers by humming around Dean’s cock, and Dean groans in response.

“You get off on sucking my cock?” Dean asks, and Castiel moans again. “That’s  _so_ fucking hot, Cas.”

Castiel’s hand speeds up on both of them after hearing that Dean thinks he’s hot. He strokes himself faster, messier, and mimics his movements with the hand on Dean’s cock, too. He sucks hard as he drags his lips back up to the tip of Dean’s cock, and then sinks back down, pumping his cock in perfect time with his head bobbing up and down.

“Ungh, yeah, Cas, like that,” Dean encourages him. Dean’s fingers brush his hair off of his forehead before tangling themselves in his hair and resting on his head gently. Castiel continues bobbing his head, sucking on the way back to the tip each time, and tonguing him once he gets there. Dean’s hands steadily increase their pressure until he’s guiding Castiel’s head up and down at the pace he wants, which Castiel is happy to oblige. “Perfect. So fucking good.”

Castiel’s getting close, every word of encouragement from Dean pushing him that much closer to the finish line. He takes as much of Dean into his mouth as he can, and then takes a deep breath and sinks down so that he can take Dean into his throat.

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Dean gasps and Castiel has to pull off to catch his breath before he tries again. It’s been a long, long time, but he used to be able to do this. He changes the angle of his head and then inhales again before he takes him in, and this time he can deep throat without any resistance. Dean’s hands tighten in his hair and Castiel can hear him panting loudly, breaths coming quick and fast. He pulls back up to get his breath and Dean asks, “Are you gonna swallow my cum, Cas?”

Castiel moans, because he wants to. He wants to know what Dean tastes like when he shoots his load into the back of his throat. He wants every drop. Thinking about it makes his cock twitch in his hand, and he knows he’s close to coming.

Dean pushes his head back down, and Castiel takes him all the way in again, working his throat muscles so that he can swallow around him. “Oh God,” Dean pants, so Castiel does it again before he sucks his way back up. “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come in your perfect, fuckin’ mouth.” Dean pushes him back down, roughly this time, and Castiel gives his own cock a twist on the upstroke, and he feels his orgasm building quickly. He feels Dean’s cock nudge the back of his throat before he opens up for him again, and Dean pushes his head down again, at the wrong angle, which makes him gag and gasp for air, but Dean doesn’t loosen his hold.

“Cas, fuck,” he croaks. “Cas, I’m - I’m -  _fuck_!” Dean shouts, and his grip lessens even as the rest of his body goes taut. Castiel lifts his head to get a breath and then he feels the first hot spurt of cum flood into his mouth. He swallows it down, and suckles at the tip to wring every drop out of him, until Dean’s hand drops to cup his jaw and pull him away.

“Paper towels,” Castiel rasps, his voice rough from having Dean’s dick forced down his throat.

Dean reaches for them beside him and pushes them into his hand, and Castiel takes a step back so that Dean can watch as his hand flies over his dick. It only takes a few strokes, looking at Dean’s face, flushed from his orgasm, watching the way Dean is staring at him with eyes still hooded with desire, and then with a swipe of his thumb across his swollen cock head, his eyes squeeze closed and he’s coming hard, catching rope after rope of cum in the paper towels. He takes a step closer to Dean once he’s spent, and braces himself on the counter, resting his head on Dean’s chest.

Dean combs through his hair with his fingers while Castiel catches his breath, and then Dean gives his hair a little tug so that his face tips up. Dean presses their lips together softly, slow and sweet, his hands still stroking his hair, making Castiel’s heart melt. He makes a soft sound of pleasure in his throat, and Dean breaks their kiss and nuzzles into his cheek, kissing him there, too. “You’re awesome,” Dean praises him.

“You’re an asshole,” Castiel returns, leaning away to look at Dean’s face and remembering how he held him down.

“I feel kinda bad,” Dean admits. “You felt so good, though. I kinda lost it. Didn’t want you to stop.”

“I got that loud and clear,” Castiel replies.

“You mad?” Dean asks, and Castiel can see some of the worry on his face.

“I didn’t appreciate it in the moment, but I’m not mad.”

“I’ll uh, do better next time, k?” Dean says shyly. Castiel knows that’s what passes as an apology for Dean, so he accepts it with a quick kiss.

“I’m going to go wash my hands and brush my teeth,” Castiel says. “Can you put the nachos in the oven, please? Keep an eye on them because the oven’s been on longer than I expected it to be.”

“I’m on it,” Dean says, hopping off the counter. “I’ll wash this, too,” Dean adds, gesturing to the counter.

“Thanks,” Castiel chuckles, walking up the stairs.

They eat their nachos and watch this week’s  _Survivor_ holding hands, which has somehow become one of the weekly shows they watch together. At Dean’s insistence, Castiel lets him watch  _Dr. Sexy M.D._ , and Castiel grabs a book to read so he doesn’t make fun of the entire show and piss Dean off.

It’s after ten by the time it’s over, and Castiel says he needs to get to bed since he works in the morning. “Do you want to stay?” he asks Dean, not for the first time.

Dean shakes his head. “Nah. Don’t want anybody seein’ my car parked here overnight,” he explains, getting to his feet and walking towards the door.

Castiel feels a pang of disappointment, but nods. “I understand,” he says quietly.

“Hey, c’mere,” Dean offers, holding his arms open. Castiel goes into them happily and rests his head on Dean’s shoulder, his nose pressed into his neck. “You know I wanna be here with you, right?”

Castiel feels butterflies in his stomach. He _didn’t_ know that. Dean’s never told him. “You do?”

“‘Course I do. I’m just not, you know, ready for the whole town to know,” Dean explains. Castiel nods. “I’ve been thinkin’ about tellin’ Sam though. Not tomorrow or anything, but soon. I’m thinkin’ about it, okay?”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean pushes him back enough so that he can cup his face and kiss him quickly. “I’m on nights tomorrow. You gonna come by and say hi?”

“If you want me to,” Castiel answers.

“Always wanna see you, Cas.” He kisses him again chastely and says, “Don’t work too hard tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” Castiel smiles. Dean answers him with a wink, and then he goes to get into his car, leaving Castiel feeling lonely in his empty house.

 

Castiel and Dean collapse onto Castiel’s bed, covered in sweat and gasping for air as they try to catch their breath.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathes.

Castiel lets out a sound as close to a giggle as he thinks is physically possible for him. “I agree with that.”

“That was the best blow job I’ve ever had,” Dean says reverently.

Castiel snorts. “You say that every time.”

“That’s because it’s true!”

Castiel curls up on his favorite spot on Dean’s chest, and Dean lays a hand on his back. Castiel’s in that perfect post-orgasm bubble right now, and he feels like he’s glowing with happiness.

“You’re getting pretty good yourself,” Castiel tells him.

“I have no idea why that makes me feel a little proud of myself, but it kinda does,” Dean chuckles.

Castiel just hums his amusement, happy to be in Dean’s arms. He closes his eyes, and in no time, he’s drifting off. Of course, he’s woken up when Dean starts getting out of bed.

“Stay,” Castiel whispers.

“You know I can’t,” Dean says, quickly finding his discarded boxers and pulling them on.

“Just one night. We can tell people you got drunk and slept on the couch. I don’t care. I don’t like sleeping alone every night when I could be sleeping with you.”

“Not tonight,” Dean denies him again, not even stopping to look at him as he keeps putting the rest of his clothes on.

Castiel feels the all-too-familiar pang of disappointment take root inside of him, and if he wasn’t already so tired he never would have said what he says next. “When then?”

“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean answers, his voice hard. “When I’m ready.”

“Give me a ballpark. Another month? Six months? A year? Or never?”

“I thought you said you’d wait til I was ready,” Dean reminds him.

“I will,” Castiel assures him, voice a smidgen softer. “I hate hiding this, but I’ll wait. I just want to know for how long.”

“You’ll be the first one to know when I figure it the fuck out, okay?” Dean replies.

Castiel  _hates_ that tone of voice. Dean hardly ever uses it with him, so Castiel rolls over onto his side facing away from Dean and tries to take a breath to calm his own temper. They’ve been together for four months now, and still Dean hasn’t told anybody that they’re together, and that means he’s refused to spend the night with him. Castiel feels like one of Dean’s one night stands sometimes. They hang out, they get off, and then Dean leaves, only to repeat the same thing the next day.

Four months ago all Castiel wanted was what he has right now, and now, he stupidly feels like it isn’t enough.

As usual, he tries not to think about it. Tries to remind himself that he needs to be patient for Dean to come to terms with their relationship, and that it’s his job as his (secret) boyfriend to support him. He repeats those things in his head, but they don’t erase the sinking disappointment that still whirls in his stomach.

He hears Dean walk out of his room and down the stairs without even saying goodbye, and fights back tears. This is their first fight, but it’s fine. They’re fine. He’s making it a bigger deal than it needs to be. He rolls over onto his back and covers his face with his hands, taking in deep, ragged breaths trying to calm himself.

He startles when he feels the mattress dip and rolls over again, embarrassed that Dean’s still here and that he’s seeing him like this.

“Are we fighting?” Dean asks him, which only makes Castiel roll his eyes at him, though Dean can’t see that. “C’mon, Cas, don’t be pissed at me,” Dean asks him, curling up around him and making Castiel the small spoon. He feels Dean's lips on the back of his neck and tries to strengthen his resolve. He’s not going to let Dean kiss his way out of this one.

“I’m not pissed at you,” he answers.

“Upset, whatever. Don’t be a chick about this.” Castiel stiffens and sets his jaw, but before he can say anything Dean says, “That was the wrong thing to say. Shit. I don’t know how to do this, okay? Whatever you’re mad or sad or upset about, don’t be. I don’t want you to feel like this but I dunno what I’m supposed to do.”

“I don’t even think you realize the way you’re making me feel,” Castiel says.

“So tell me. What’m I doin’ wrong?”

“It’s… it’s the sexual stuff between us. In its way, it’s the best I’ve ever had because I’ve never been as attracted to anybody as I am to you. But at the same time, it feels... impersonal. There’s no indication of any kind of feelings from you, and while I understand you don’t feel the same way about me as I do you, I sometimes I feel like I’m just another one of your hook ups. It’s like you just get off and take off, and I hate it. It’s the same reason I never slept around, and it’s even worse because it’s  _you_. I don’t want it to feel like that with us,” Castiel tries to explain.

“I don’t want you to feel like that either. I care about you,” Dean says, which is the only thing he’s said about his feelings for Castiel since the night they first kissed. “I can’t stay here, though. So other than that, what can I do to make you feel differently?”

“I’m not sure,” Castiel answers quietly. “But it’s nice to hear you say that you care about me.”

“Thought you knew that already.”

“Of course I do, but I guess I’d like it if you said it every now and then, too,” Castiel admits.

“I’ll tell you more often,” Dean promises.

They lay there in silence for a long time, Castiel feeling a bit better with Dean holding onto him like this, but not enough to make a real difference. He doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say.

“How ‘bout this? On Saturday we’ll go have lunch. You come pick me up in your stupid car, then I’ll walk over to work for my shift. When I close, I’ll walk back here and sleep with you,” Dean offers. “Nobody’ll see my car that way or ask any questions. I know that won’t help with the impersonal sex stuff, ‘cause it’ll be two in the morning, but I’ll stay here with you if you want me to.”

Castiel turns over enough to face him. “Really?”

Dean kisses him on the forehead, a rare intimate gesture that makes Castiel’s heart soar. “I know I’m not ready to give you everything you want, and I know it probably sucks a lot for you because of how long you’ve wanted this with me. I get that. But... I can’t tell people about us yet when I don’t know how to explain what I am. What label to use, or whatever. But if working somethin’ out so we can stay together some nights will help you to feel like you’re my boyfriend instead of my fuck buddy, then yeah, that I can do.”

Castiel nods his head. “Thank you, Dean.”

“I know I’m shit at this stuff, but don’t… don’t give up on me, k?”

His voice sounds smaller than it usually does, and Castiel feels his heart crack thinking that Dean would ever think he’d be able to give up on him. “I won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Just keep tellin’ me when I’m being a dick, okay? Sometimes I don’t even know. I didn’t know this time, and if I didn’t forget my wallet on your nightstand and heard you gettin’ upset, I still wouldn’t know. You gotta tell me, okay, baby?”

Castiel chokes on a laugh. “ _Baby_?”

Dean flushes adorably. “Shut up,” he grumbles. “I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honeybunch. I like it. I’ve always wanted a nickname.”

“Blow me,” Dean scoffs.

“I did already,” Castiel returns.

“Call me honeybunch again and I’ll punch you,” Dean threatens.

“Sorry, sweet cheeks.”

“Fuck you, I’m leaving,” Dean complains, but he leans in to kiss him quickly. “We’re okay, right?”

Castiel nods, kissing him again. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean promises, then he gets out of bed and grabs his wallet. He pauses at the doorway and grins, “‘Night, baby.”

Castiel laughs, and this time when he hears Dean walk down the stairs and leave, he isn’t upset. He feels better.

Castiel has a hard time falling asleep Saturday night. He hasn’t gotten to sleep next to Dean while they’ve been together, and he’s excited about it. He hasn’t had many long-term relationships in his life, so he’s never really gotten used to sleeping next to anybody, but for some reason, it doesn’t stop him from feeling like his bed is too big for just him every single night. He tosses and turns for several hours tonight before he finally falls asleep.

He wakes up when he hears the door open downstairs, and a soft smile comes to his face when he hears Dean walk up the stairs. He doesn’t even mind when Dean fumbles through his bag for his pajamas, or when he shuts the bathroom door too loudly. He definitely doesn’t mind when he climbs into the bed behind him and wraps his arms around him.

Castiel wiggles backwards until they’re pressed together back to front, with no space in between and lots of skin to skin. Dean kisses the curve of his neck, and Castiel makes a happy sound in his throat. He’s asleep in minutes.

When he wakes up the next morning, he can tell it’s later than he usually sleeps just based on how bright his bedroom is. That’s probably because he had such a hard time falling asleep. He smiles at the way Dean is still pressed against him, his arm still thrown over his waist, though Castiel has rolled onto his back at some point during the night. Castiel realizes Dean even has a leg thrown over him when he shuffles to get more comfortable, and that’s when he notices that Dean’s hard and pressing into his leg. He smirks to himself before he slides a hand between his leg and Dean’s cock and starts rubbing gently.

Dean is already thrusting into his hand lazily when he wakes himself up with a groan, and Castiel sees when his eyes go from tired to awake and then aroused all in a second. He doesn’t miss a beat before he nips at Castiel’s collarbone and starts thrusting with more purpose.

They bring each other to orgasm with slow and lazy hand jobs and clean up their combined mess with Castiel’s pajama bottoms before snuggling up together again. Castiel feels like this is  _exactly_ what he was missing the last few months, and he’s hovering in a blissed out state of absolute happiness when Dean says, “You know I’m staying over next weekend too, right?”

Castiel has never been happier.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean switches shifts with Jo to plan a Saturday night date night with Cas near the end of October (not that he tells Jo that part). Because he works every weekend, they’ve never spent the night at Dean’s house before, and Dean really wants to sleep with Cas in his bed for once. Cas has no idea and thinks he’s working nights tonight, and he texted him a few hours ago asking if he was coming over before his shift because Dean is usually there by now. He thinks Cas is probably annoyed by his offhanded reply, which amuses him, so Dean has a huge grin on his face when he pulls into the driveway at 3:00. He gets outta his car and walks up to Cas’s house and lets himself in.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says, getting up and greeting him at the door. “You’re later than I expected.”

“Yeah, I got that from your text,” Dean says, still grinning. “Go pack an overnight bag. We’re going to my place.”

“What?” Castiel asks, obviously surprised. “You have to work in a few hours.”

“Nah, I switched shifts with Jo. I’m cookin’ you dinner, and you’re sleeping with me at my place tonight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Castiel asks, smiling bigger than Dean’s seen him smile in weeks.

“Wanted to surprise you. Now go grab your shit and let’s go,” Dean repeats.

“Five minutes,” Castiel promises.

Dean takes a seat anyway, but surprisingly, it’s only those five minutes before Cas is back downstairs with a duffel bag over his shoulder. Perks of dating a dude. “Ready when you are,” Castiel smiles.

Dean can’t help but smile back at him. He’s adorable when he gets that big smile on his face. He needs to remember to do shit like this more often so he can see this smile of his a lot more. He stands up and gets in Cas’s space to give him a quick kiss. “You’re adorable.” Cas blushes, which only ups the adorable factor, and Dean leans in to kiss him again. “C’mon, baby.”

Castiel scoffs good-naturedly at the endearment which somehow managed to stick, and locks the door behind them before he follows Dean out to his car. Dean leaves his hand on the bench seat, secretly hoping for Cas to take it in his. Dean would never admit to it out loud, but he loves driving in the car with Cas, and he loves holding his hand. There’s a nice breeze today, so they have the windows down, and when Cas does lace their fingers together and Dean glances over at him, he can barely tear his eyes off of him long enough to look back at the road. The smile on his face, the way his eyes are bright with happiness, and the wind in his hair have Dean pretty much spellbound. He’s never felt like this about anybody before, and he can hardly wait to spend the whole night with Cas without having to explain it to anybody.

When he pulls into his parking space at his apartment building, he unbuckles his seatbelt and grabs Cas by the front of the shirt to pull him in for a quick but passionate kiss. If he wasn’t afraid of somebody seeing him he would linger a hell of a lot more and it physically pains him to pull away, but he has to. He can’t deal with the aftermath otherwise.

“You have no idea how fuckin’ hot you look today,” Dean tells him.

Castiel looks confused by the compliment and the PDA, but he smiles wide again and Dean lets him go so they can get out of the car and walk up to his apartment. Castiel has barely crossed the threshold when he inhales and says, “Smells like pie in here.”

Dean nods. “Yeah, I baked a pie for dessert.”

“I love it when you make pie,” Castiel comments.

“I know you do,” Dean answers. “One of my favorite things about you. You can just throw your shit in my room,” Dean tells him, and Castiel goes to do that, and then comes back to sit on Dean’s very old but very comfortable couch with him. “I already prepped dinner, so we can just hang out until I have to start cooking.”

“What’re we having?” Castiel asks.

“Spaghetti and meatballs with Ellen’s homemade sauce. The meatballs are chilling in the fridge with a bottle of wine.”

“That sounds wonderful. What’s the occasion?” Castiel asks.

Dean frowns. “There’s gotta be an occasion for me to do somethin’ nice for you?”

“Well, this  _is_ the first time you’ve done anything like this, so I was just wondering.”

Dean pretends that doesn’t kinda take the wind out of his sails. Six months together next week (not that he’s counting or anything), spending time together every day, and Cas thinks this is the first nice thing he’s done for him? He thought cooking sometimes, and fixing shit around Cas’s place was nice. But maybe Cas doesn’t think so? Shit. He must think Dean’s the worst boyfriend in the world. “There’s no reason. Just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“I appreciate it very much. It means a lot to me,” Castiel says earnestly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean answers gruffly, uncomfortable with the praise. “Wanna watch Dr. Sexy?” Castiel groans and slumps back against the couch dramatically. “Oh come on, yesterday ended on a huge cliffhanger! I’ll let you cuddle if you let me watch it,” Dean barters.

Castiel lights up, which makes Dean snicker. “Okay!” Castiel exclaims quickly.

Dean grabs the remote control and gets himself comfortable, laying on his back. Castiel turns onto his stomach and lays mostly on top of him, resting his head on his chest. Dean starts the episode and then winds his arms around Cas, which causes him to make a happy little sound in his throat. Dean shakes his head at him. He’s like a big cat, really. The funny thing is that as much as he tells Cas he isn’t into cuddling, he actually enjoys moments like this more than almost anything. He just doesn’t want to seem needy or something for admitting it. So it works out really well for him to make Cas think he doesn’t like it, then offer it like he’s giving something up, when really he wanted to hold Cas all along. Win/win for everybody.

About half way through the episode, Castiel stops offering his snarky commentary about how unrealistic every part of the show is. Which is actually kinda nice for once. On the next commercial break, Dean notices how his breathing has evened out, and when Dean says his name and he doesn’t respond, he realizes Cas has fallen asleep on him.  _Guess he really does have a thing for sleeping with me_ , Dean thinks. He changes the channel to some  _Judge Judy_ reruns, and watches two before he decides he should probably wake Cas up.

He runs his hand up his back, feeling a twist of desire in his stomach when he feels those strong muscles under his palm, and runs his fingers through his hair. Cas makes a sound, but doesn’t move. So he brushes his hair off of his forehead a few times, letting his hand get heavier and heavier on his head as he does it. He loves Cas’s hair.

Suddenly, Castiel wakes with a jump and lifts his head up to look at Dean, blinking owlishly. “I fell asleep.”

His voice is all rough from his nap, he has a line on his face from Dean’s shirt, his hair is flat on one side of his head, and Dean wonders how his brain isn’t exploding from all that adorableness all at once. Dean’s smile is soft when he replies, “Yeah, ya did.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says, then stretches like a cat before he sits up. “You’re very comfortable.”

“Guess you’ll sleep well tonight then, huh?”

“I might not be tired after that nap. You’ll have to tire me out first,” Castiel suggests.

“Woe is me,” Dean teases. “I’m gonna go get dinner started. Want a glass of wine?”

Castiel nods. “I’ll come sit in the kitchen and keep you company.”

The first thing Dean does is pour them each a glass of wine. He walks Cas’s glass to him and Castiel’s eyes are shining at him with happiness again when he passes it to him. “Thank you,” Cas says.

Dean gives him a nod and raises his glass a bit before he takes a sip. Not as good as beer, he decides, but it’ll do. He grabs the baguette he picked up, slices it, and then mixes together some herbs and spices with melted butter before he brushes it on. Cas is up out of his seat grabbing the cheese grater before he can stop him, but he  _does_ stop him. “You always cook at your place. Let me cook for you.”

“I’m just sitting there. There’s no reason why I can’t grate the cheese,” Castiel argues.

“Because I wanna do this for you, okay? I do a shit job of being your boyfriend most of the time, but this is something I can actually do. So just… let me.”

Castiel tilts his head to the side. Which is an adorable but weird thing he does when he’s confused. “You are not a shit boyfriend, Dean.”

“Please,” Dean scoffs.

Castiel narrows his eyes, but he goes back to sit down like Dean asked. “I hate when you speak badly of yourself. If you could only see yourself the way I see you, you would know how happy you make me. That being with you makes me happier than I’ve ever been.”

“I could make you happier,” Dean argues.

“I could probably make you happier, too,” Castiel points out.

Dean just shakes his head, because it’s not true. Cas couldn’t do a single thing to make Dean happier. He’s happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, and every single day he’s petrified he’s going to do or say the wrong thing and lose it all.

“I was thinkin’...” Dean starts, then stops and takes a drink of his wine. “I think I’m ready to tell Sam. About us, I mean.”

“That’s great,” Castiel says easily. “He loves you so much, there’s no way he’d ever be anything but supportive. Jess, too.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty much a package deal at this point. Jess is cool. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“But?” Castiel asks.

“You know I don’t like to do the whole ‘let’s talk about our feelings’ shit,” Dean begins.

Castiel hums. “I have heard you say that before, yes. Although I think we do okay for the most part.”

Dean feels an uncomfortable pang inside thinking of all the things he keeps to himself because he’s too scared of sharing them with Cas. Cas doesn’t know that though, so he just powers through. “Helps that you don’t try to corner me about it all the time. But Sam. Well, let’s just say Dr. Phil’s got nothing on Sam when it comes to talking about  _feelings_.”

“You want to tell Sam that we’re together but you also don’t want to explain yourself. Is that what you’re getting at?”

Dean nods, face flushing. Cas really does know him scarily well. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Castiel shrugs. “Okay. So next time we’re with Sam and Jess, you let me hold your hand.”

Dean feels his face heat even more thinking about that. “Just like that?”

“There are endless ways we could show what we are to each other without saying the words, but that seems easiest.”

Dean nods. “Okay.”

“Really?” Castiel asks, hope and affection written all over his face.

“Yeah. Next time we’re together not out in public, just do it. Don’t ask. Just do it, okay?” Dean asks.

“Are you sure?”

Dean nods. “I don’t wanna lie to him anymore, and I know you’re unhappy hiding this. So, yeah. I’m sure.” He grates some cheese so he doesn’t have to look at Cas.

“As long as it’s as much for you as it is for me,” Castiel checks, and Dean nods again. “This makes me very happy,” Castiel says quietly.

 _I’m sorry,_ Dean thinks for the thousandth time. “I wish I was ready sooner,” Dean confesses.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more patient,” Castiel responds.

“You were. You’ve been so good, Cas. Really. I don’t deserve you.” He sprinkles the cheese on the garlic bread and slides it into the oven.

“Stop that,” Castiel says softly as he gets to his feet. Dean busies himself with filling a pot and placing it on the stove. Cas walks over to him and wraps his arms around Dean from behind. Cas nuzzles into his neck and Dean plants his feet and waits, silently enjoying the closeness and the feel of Cas‘s lips on his skin. “I don’t say this because I don’t want you to feel like you have to say it back. And I don’t want you to feel like that now either, but… I love you, Dean.” Dean feels the words inflate his insides like a balloon. Nobody’s said that to him since the last time Cas did, and it fills him up in the best possible way. “I love you very much, and I’m so happy and so proud of you for taking this step.” Dean’s glad Castiel can’t see his face, because his eyes are filling stupidly. He’s wondered a lot if Cas really meant it when he said he loved him that day in June, because he’s never said it again. And it feels fuckin’ awesome to know he still does.

“Still feels amazing to hear you say that,” he says quietly. “And I’m not, you know, _there_ yet. But I’ve never felt like this with anybody before. Nothing even comes close,” he admits.

Cas kisses the side of his neck, his mouth open and wet, sending a shiver down his spine. “Feels amazing to hear that, too,” he responds, and Dean wonders again how he ever ended up with somebody as patient as Cas is.

“Thanks for not making… that… a big thing, ya know,” Dean says awkwardly.

“I know you care about me. And five months together isn’t so long to wait for somebody to fall in love. I’m happy with how things are, and will be even happier when we tell Sam and Jess,” Castiel repeats. He kisses his cheek and then backs away and goes back to the table. “So how did you convince Jo to switch shifts with you anyway?” Castiel asks, and Dean knows and appreciates that he’s purposely bringing the conversation back to more neutral topics.

“Was easy,” Dean responds. He pulls out a skillet and puts it on the stove to heat up, then grabs the meatballs from the fridge. “Just told her I was feeling a little burnt out and wanted an extra day off. She did the thing she does with her eyes, when she stares at me like  _she knows_ I’m lyin’ even though there’s no way she does.” Castiel nods along, knowing exactly the look Dean’s talking about. “So then I just did  _my_ thing and smiled at her and batted my eyelashes a little bit, and she rolled her eyes but agreed pretty easily. It was kinda awesome,” Dean grins, remembering how easy it was.

“That’s because she likes you,” Castiel tells him.

“Well yeah, she’s like my kid sister.”

Castiel chuckles. “No, she  _likes_ you,” he repeats.

Dean glances at him over his shoulder to make sure he’s getting what Cas is saying. “Dude, no.”

“Dude, yes,” Castiel replies, echoing Dean’s tone of voice. “It couldn’t be more obvious.”

Dean shakes his head, completely disbelieving him. “Nope. I don’t buy it.”

“Ask anybody. I’m telling you, she has a giant crush on you,” Castiel insists.

“You jealous or somethin’?” Dean teases.

“I don’t particularly _like_ the way she looks at you, but she’s not the one you’re cooking dinner for.”

“She’s not the one that makes me blow my load every day, either,” Dean says, grinning at him.

“I should hope not,” Castiel answers quickly. “You’re mine.”

Dean feels a thrill of excitement hearing Cas talk about him like that. “Shit, that shouldn’t be hot.” Dean can  _feel_ Cas checking him out and he purposely doesn’t look at him. “Stop it,” Dean tells him.

“I’m not doing anything!” Castiel insists.

“You’re checking me out. I can fuckin’ feel you wanting me from all the way over here.”

“I always want you,” Castiel answers quickly. Dean concentrates on cooking the meatballs and not the way he can feel desire coursing through his veins. “But I’m not touching you until we’re in your bed. We don’t spend nearly enough time there.” Dean has visions of them rolling around on his bedsheets and has to shake his head to clear it.

“Talk about somethin’ else,” he begs, and Castiel laughs.

“Do you think this will ever go away?” Castiel asks.

“This thing between us?” Dean clarifies.

“Yeah.”

He can’t imagine how it ever would. “No,” he declares. “Do you?”

“No,” Castiel answers just as quickly. Dean’s not the kind of guy who thinks in terms of forevers or plans out his future in any way, shape, or form. But he can’t think about next year or the year after without Cas there, too. So it makes him feel really good to hear how quickly Cas answered that question. He doesn’t want to talk about that, though, so he just shoots Cas a smile, hoping that gets his feelings across.

He finishes cooking amid easy conversation from there on out, and he and Cas linger over dinner, finishing off the bottle of wine and opening a second. They watch a movie on the couch, hands clasped together, and inevitably, about half way through, they get handsy. Cas has Dean’s shirt off, and Dean has Cas’s fly open and his hand down his pants.

“Dean,” Castiel gasps. “Wait.”

Dean stops moving his hand but doesn’t stop riding his leg. “What’s the matter?”

Castiel gives him a little push and Dean sits up with a huff, pulling Cas up with him.

“We’ve never talked about this, but I was wondering how you felt about having sex.”

Dean feels his heart start racing and his dick harden almost painfully between his legs. “I, uh, feel good about it. Damn good. Depending, you know, on how we… you know, do it.”

Castiel gives him a tiny smile and leans in to kiss him softly. “I would be happy with doing it either way, but since I get to stay here with you all night tonight, I thought tonight could be the night. And we’d have to work you up to being ready for that over time, but I don’t need that.”

Dean clears his throat, like an idiot, and then says, “So you want me to… you know…  _do_ you?”

Castiel nods. “I want you inside of me, yes,” Castiel answers.

Dean feels a wave of desire so strong he actually feels a little breathless. “Fuck,” he exhales. “Yeah. Obviously. I want that.”

Castiel’s smile is mischievous enough to take his breath away again. “Good. Me too. If you don’t mind, why don’t you go ahead and cut your fingernails down nice and short for me? No sharp edges. I just need a few minutes in the bathroom and then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

Dean nods again, stupidly, and then Castiel gets up, holding his jeans up at the waist, and walks into the bathroom. Dean doesn’t know what he needs to do in there  _exactly_ , but he has a pretty good idea, and he’s thankful Cas is doing what he can to make this as… clean as possible. He tries not to think about that, and instead, concentrates on the idea of being  _inside_ of Cas for the first time, and has to bite back a small whine. Son of a bitch. If he makes it through this it’s going to be a freakin’ miracle.

He grabs their wine glasses and the almost empty second bottle of wine, and brings them into the kitchen. He rinses out the glasses but leaves them in the sink and pours the tiny bit of wine left down the drain. Nobody’s going to finish that at this point anyway. The mindless tasks put him at ease again, and he’s feeling better by the time he locks the door, switches off the lights, and goes into his bedroom. He takes care of his nails like Cas asked him to, but then he feels silly having his jeans on but no shirt, so he switches to his pajama pants. He just lays on the bed, waiting on Cas, concentrating on thinking about anything except what they’re about to do.

He doesn’t know how long he waits before Cas comes into his room, but when he does, his face is slightly flushed and he’s obviously still hard even in his jeans.

“The anticipation is getting to me,” Castiel explains, and Dean chuckles.

“Yeah, I get that. I feel like a teenager again. Tryin’ to think about non-sexy things so I don’t get too excited,” Dean laughs.

“I like knowing that you want me.”

“I’ve, uh, never done this before,” Dean divulges, probably unnecessarily. “Not even with a chick. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I’ll help guide you through it and let you know when I’m ready,” Castiel promises. “You’re going to make me feel so good.”

“I want to.”

Cas drops his pants, leaving his boxers on, gets into the bed beside Dean, and climbs on top of him quickly. Their mouths come together, their cocks line up, and it’s only minutes before they’re both completely naked and back to panting and groping at each other’s bodies desperately.

There’s always this urgency between them. Even after six months together and all the orgasms they’ve had, it’s like the second they start touching each other they both feel like they need to race to the finish line. It’s exhilarating and exciting and some of the best sex Dean’s ever had in his  _life_ (which is saying something) but it’s always over way too fast.

This time, Cas slows them down with gentle kisses, and his lips slowly trace down Dean’s chest. It makes him feel warm inside, and he starts aching in a completely new way he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt before. Cas rolls over and rifles through his duffel bag that’s on the floor beside his bed, and while Dean’s definitely distracted by the way his ass is wiggling in the air, he tries to take a deep breath to get himself together. When Castiel pops his head back up, Dean sees there’s a bottle of  _Astroglide_ in his hand, and, well, there goes the little bit of calm he was able to talk himself into.

Something must show on his face, because Cas says, “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. I don’t mind waiting.”

“I want to,” Dean reassures him. “Just a little nervous.”

“About what?”

Dean sighs and offers him a crooked smile. “I dunno if I’m more worried that I won’t like it at all or if I’ll like it way too much.”

Castiel laughs softly before he lays on his back and tugs Dean on top of him. He notices the way Cas’s legs fall open for him and his dick responds to the offering. “If you don’t like it at all, we don’t have to do it again. And if you like it too much, then you blow me to make up for it and we try again later.”

Dean huffs out an awkward laugh, but nods. “What do you want me to do?”

Cas flips the top of the lubricant and takes Dean’s hand in his. Cas kisses his palm, which makes him blush, and then squirts some lubricant onto his fingers and says, “Just touch me. When you’re ready, start with one finger, nice and slow, and just feel it out. I’ll tell you when I’m ready for more.”

Dean’s heart is pounding. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me with one finger. Trust me.”

Dean nods, because he  _does_ trust Cas, and though he doesn’t wanna think about it, he knows he’s done this before. So he kisses his way across Castiel’s stomach as he brings his hand between Cas’s legs. He runs his fingers across the cleft of his ass once, trying to not think about exactly where he’s touching, and he’s rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from Cas. Just knowing that Cas likes it already has Dean completely forgetting about everything except bringing Cas pleasure. He circles his rim with his finger, teasing, and Cas’s breath hitches again.

“Does it feel good?” Dean asks, completely curious.

Cas nods his head, his eyes wide. “The skin’s really sensitive. Keep going,” he grins.

As Dean continues rubbing around his entrance with his fingers, Cas’s hands grasp the sheets, like he can hardly stand this, but in a really good way. Dean wants to make him feel even more. So he dips his finger shallowly into his hole. It’s just his fingertip, really, but Cas’s stomach muscles clench like he can hardly hold still. Dean pushes in further, aided by the lube on his finger, and while his ass is tighter than even he imagined, his finger slides in to his first knuckle smoothly enough. Then it stops, and Dean doesn’t know what to do. He’s petrified about doing something wrong.

“Push,” Castiel whispers after a moment, and Dean does. With one push, his finger breaches the muscle and slides easily in the rest of the way. Castiel arches his back and Dean’s transfixed by the sight. His finger is squeezed tight by the walls of Cas’s ass and he can hardly even imagine how his dick’s gonna fit in there, but he knows it must. He slowly slides his finger half way out, and then pushes back in. “Feels so good, Dean,” Castiel tells him. Cas already has that raspy tone to his voice, the one he only hears when Cas is either close to coming or extremely turned on, and Dean’s cock gives an interested twitch knowing Cas is feeling this wrecked already.

“Does it hurt?” Dean asks, needing to know.

“No. S-so good,” Castiel rasps. “I forgot how good it could be. Don’t stop,” Cas encourages him.

With his prompting, he starts a rhythm, sliding his finger in and out, and he’s entranced when he feels Cas getting looser and looser as he goes. The looser he gets, the more Cas seems to enjoy it, and soon, Cas is asking for a second finger, and Dean repeats the process of adding a little bit at a time until Cas opens up for him.

He’s feeling more confident now, and he actually enjoys twisting his fingers, and spreading them to stretch him once Cas asks him to. He pays attention to the expression on Cas’s face, and takes note of what he’s doing to elicit every gasp and every moan.

“Turn your hand like this,” Castiel tells him suddenly, palm to the ceiling. When Dean does, Cas adds, “Now crook your fingers like this.” He shows him what he thinks of as the  _come here_ finger curl, and continues, “and feel around for a hard bulb of tissue.” Dean pokes around for a few seconds before the tip of his finger brushes against something that makes Cas’s hips come right up off the bed.

Dean pulls away like he’s been burned, feeling guilty and terrible and stupid as fuck. “Shit, sorry. I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean gasps quickly.

“No, no, no,” Castiel says quickly. “That’s what I wanted you to find. My prostate. It feels so unbelievably good, Dean. Do that again, please.”

Dean’s body relaxes, and he closes his eyes to calm himself down. Shit. Okay. He inserts his fingers again and feels around until he finds that spot again, and Cas moans long and loud when he strokes it.

“Jesus Christ,” Castiel groans. He sounds like a fucking porn star, and Dean strokes it again gently. Cas throws his head back in pleasure. “Just like that,  _fuck_.”

Dean’s never seen him react to something this strongly before and a distant part of his brain wonders if it really feels  _that_ good. Then he sees Cas’s cock is laying heavy and flushed on his stomach, and Dean kisses his way down to it, licking across the top once before sucking gently on the head. Like he hopes, Cas’s hips come up again and he bucks into his mouth. “ _Dean!”_ he cries. “More. More lube and another finger, _please_.” Dean ignores him in favor of sinking his lips down onto Cas’s cock, laving his tongue against his frenulum the way he knows Cas likes as he goes. Cas’s hands find his jaw and tug him off. “You can’t. I can’t. Too close,” Castiel pants. “Too good.”

Dean smiles, getting it and feeling pretty fuckin’ proud of himself. He reaches for the lube himself and slicks up his fingers again before he fits three into Cas. Cas is making this long, low sound in his throat like he’s never heard before, and it’s so fucking hot Dean can’t resist thrusting into the mattress beneath him. Watching Cas lose it like this, knowing how good he’s making him feel and that he’s completely falling apart has Dean more worked up than he ever thought he could be without actually being touched. He fucks Cas with his fingers, groaning himself when Cas starts rolling his hips down into them. He looks at his fingers pushing into inside of Cas for the first time and feels sudden heat flare inside of him when he sees his pink rim stretched around them. Why is that hot? How much hotter is it going to look when it’s his thick cock in there?

“Cas, baby,” Dean breathes, feeling frantic. “I need… I need…” Dean tries, but can’t say the words.

“Yes,” Castiel answers for him. “I’m ready. I want you to make - to fuck me.”

A moan slips from between Dean’s lips and he pulls his fingers out and wipes them off on the bed sheets. Cas grabs the lube and pours some into his palm. Dean straddles one of his legs so Cas can reach him, and he leans down to capture his lips in a needy kiss that only turns more desperate when Cas’s hand slicks up Dean’s cock and pumps him quickly. Dean fucks into his hand instinctively and feels heat start to pool in his stomach. He backs away quickly. “Easy,” Dean warns him. “I’m a little too worked up.”

Castiel smiles into their next kiss, and Dean can feel his body relax with relief. “You liked it so far?”

“Fuckin’ loved it,” Dean confesses. “Never wanted anything so bad in my life as I want you right now.”

“Then take me,” Castiel tells him gently. Dean nods, leaning in to kiss him again before he gets himself into position. “Same as your fingers. One quick push and a moment to let me get used to you and we’ll be good to go,” Cas reminds him.

Dean lines himself up and nudges against Cas’s hole. Cas’s hands rest on his hips and urge him to rock against him slowly, so he does. The friction, the press of his cock to that warm skin, and the slick slide of the lube already have Dean’s eyes slipping closed in ecstasy.

“I’m never gonna make it through this,” Dean gasps.

“Please, Dean, I want you inside of me,” Castiel whines, pulling Dean’s hips closer.

With one quick thrust, Dean’s cock pops past the tight ring of muscle and slides into the velvety heat of his boyfriend. Both he and Cas moan together and Dean has to rest his forehead against Cas’s to keep his shit together once he’s bottomed out. He’s never pushed into anything this tight before, and it feels so different than being with a chick, it’s new and exciting and overwhelming. It’s taking everything he has not to just fuck into Cas wildly and come deep inside of him -  _fuck! Don’t think about that!_ \- but he doesn’t want this to be over in 30 seconds.

“You okay, baby?” Dean remembers to ask.

“You feel so good, Dean. I’ve wanted this for so long,” Castiel admits, his eyes warm.

Dean kisses him. It would be impossible not to. For the first time in his life, Dean feels  _this thing_ inside of him that’s screaming at him, telling him this isn’t just sex. This matters. What he and Cas have, and this exact moment, matters. This is  _significant_.

“I -“ Dean stutters, not entirely sure what to say, but needing to say something. Cas deserves something. “You - us - uh,  _this_ matters to me, Cas. So much.” Cas’s eyes soften and he cups his cheek. Dean leans into it, taking the comfort from him and feeling himself steady slightly because of it. “I don’t know how else to say it, ‘cept that I feel something different, you know, doin’ this with you, and it’s... a lot. And it’s awesome. You. What we have. I just -“ he fumbles for his words again, hating himself for not being able to put words to how much this means to him.  

Castiel cuts him off with a kiss and brushes his thumbs across Dean’s cheeks. “I know,” he says against his lips. “I love you. And this means a lot to me, too. Thank you for telling me.” They kiss again, and when Dean lifts himself onto his hands to look at the way they’re locked together, he feels like he might come there and then. Cas’s rim is flushed pink and stretched tight around his cock, glistening with lube, and Dean’s never seen anything so filthy and so fucking hot at the same time in his life. Dean has to look away. He concentrates on Cas’s face again, kissing him softly while they begin rocking together, slowly at first, both of them letting out soft sighs of pleasure as Dean begins to get used to the sensation. It still feels different than sex with a woman, but it  _is_ sex, and he knows how to do this.

He rolls his hips, using his knees as leverage, and when Cas’s big hands splay on his back, pulling him tight to his body, he can feel his testicles rubbing fuckin'  _perfectly_  and he moans into Cas’s mouth as he kisses him again and again. Cas moves with him, and the strength in his body compared to any woman he’s ever been with makes the whole experience feel so  _different_.

They’re not exactly rough, but Dean doesn’t have to worry about being gentle either, so it’s intense, and they move all over the bed, taking turns leading and letting themselves be led. Mouths and teeth move over skin, alternating between sucking and biting, and pressing lines of sweet, lingering kisses into strong muscles and swollen lips.

Castiel’s legs come up to wrap around him, and the new angle makes him sink in impossibly deeper. Cas jerks under him and Dean asks, “There, Cas? Like that?”

“Yes,” Castiel hisses. “Again,  _please_.”

Dean trails his lips down to Cas’s neck, needing a moment to catch his breath and think about something other than the dirty sounds Cas is making, the stimulating sensation of their hard bodies sliding together with sweat, the scent of sex in the air, and Cas’s strong hands sliding down to cup his asscheeks.

He’s not going to make it much longer and he feels like they’ve just gotten started.

“I need to slow down,” Dean admits.

“No, don’t stop,” Castiel begs him.

“I can’t,” Dean pants. “I’m gonna come. You feel so good.”

Dean feels Cas reach between them, and when he sees him take his leaking cock in his hand and start jerking himself off, Dean knows he should look away, but can’t.

“You're so fucking hot, Cas, son of a bitch,” Dean moans. “You don’t know how good you look. How sexy you are,” Cas’s hand speeds up, and Dean’s mesmerized by his cock head poking out of his fist. “ _Fuck_.”

Castiel throws his head back again, and Dean manages to tear his eyes away to bite down hard on his neck, which makes Castiel call out. “Harder,” Castiel asks. At first, Dean thinks he means to bite him harder, which confuses him because he’d probably make him bleed and he’s not really into that. But then Cas thrusts his hips forward, meeting Dean’s next thrust halfway, and he gets it. Fuck Cas harder.

Well, he’s only going to last another minute if he does that, so he might as well make it worth it. He slams into Cas hard, eliciting a high-pitched “ _Nnng_!” from him. “Again, Dean,” Castiel gasps, gripping his ass and pulling him in as far as he can. Then the entire world narrows down to the sounds of pleasure the two of them are eliciting from one another, a constant loop of moans, gasps, and names, the slap of skin against skin, glimpses of Cas fucking into his fist, and Dean’s release coiling in his stomach tighter and tighter as every second passes.

“Cas,” he gasps, as much as of a warning as he can give. “Cas,” he repeats on a whine, as he can feel his balls tightening. “Fuck, Cas.  _Cas-ti-el_ ,” he grunts, breathing hard. He lets go of the last shred of control he was holding on to and feels his body lock up, and then he’s coming and coming and coming deep into Cas’s ass.

His ears are still buzzing when he lifts his face from Cas’s neck just in time to see Cas’s cock erupt, shooting thick globs of cum all over his stomach and chest at the same time Dean feels the muscles in his ass clench around him. His mouth drops open in silent pleasure, and Cas’s ass helps milk him through the rest of his orgasm.

He rests his forehead on Cas’s for a brief moment before he presses his lips there instead. He braces himself on one elbow so he can brush the hair away that’s stuck there, and kisses his forehead again. Then he’s kissing his temple, his cheeks, his chin, and even his eyelids and the tip of his nose. There’s that warmth inside of him again, and he feels like he wants to wrap himself inside of it and never come out... and also kind of like he should run away from it. Like Cas knows what he’s thinking, he wraps his arms around him and pulls him in tight to his body, and though he grimaces when he feels himself land in a puddle of cum, he doesn’t say anything when Cas’s hand starts rubbing his back. His softening cock slips out of Cas, and he wiggles until he gets comfortable in Cas’s arms. That was the best sex he’s ever had, and right this second, he couldn’t care less about ever fucking another chick or anybody else for the rest of his life.

Castiel’s voice is still rough and breathy when he says, “That was incredible. You are incredible. I love you so much.”

Dean’s smile spreads across his face dopily. “It’s never been like that for me before. Was awesome,” he slurs, suddenly bone tired.

“So we can do it again?” Castiel asks hopefully.

“Yeah, just gimme an hour or so,” Dean suggests, and he can feel Cas’s body shake with laughter beneath him.

“I meant another day. You were very attentive and gentle, but it’s been a long time for me and I’m a little sore.”

Dean pops his head up. “Are you okay, though? Is that supposed to happen?”

Castiel brushes his hand across Dean’s hair. “I’m okay. It’s not a bad kind of sore.”

“Can I do anything to help? Do somethin’ different next time so it doesn’t hurt?” Dean checks.

“Nothing. It’s just a part of anal sex. I’ll get used to it again and it won’t hurt quite so much,” Castiel promises.

“‘Kay,” Dean says, relaxing again.

“I’m going to go clean up a bit. I’ll come back with a cloth for you in a few minutes,” Castiel says, kissing the top of Dean’s head before he wiggles away and walks to the bathroom, leaving Dean with one hell of a view of the ass he just fucked beginning to drip with the cum Dean just shot into him.  _Shit_ that’s hot.

Not for the first time, Dean thinks he might be a little bit more into Cas being a dude than he’s entirely comfortable admitting even to himself. He’s also pretty sure he’s starting to fall in love with him. He’s never loved anybody other than his family, except maybe his first girlfriend in the innocent kind of way you can love somebody you’re with for six weeks at fifteen years old. It’s pretty scary, but at the same time,  _it’s Cas_. Cas, who is his best friend, his favorite person to spend time with, and the dude he just had life-changing sex with. If it had to be anybody, he’s glad it’s Cas.

He’s smiling to himself, feeling a little girly about the butterflies in his stomach, but content with the knowledge nobody knows he feels like this but him. He doesn’t have to tell Cas until he’s ready. Cas isn’t pushin’ him, and he seems satisfied or whatever just knowing how much he cares about him. He’s fucking perfect.

The thought resonates again when Cas comes walking back into his bedroom with a warm cloth, and quietly and gently wipes away the drying come off of Dean’s stomach, before Cas pokes him in the ribs and makes him squirm.

“You’re an asshole,” Dean complains, and Cas laughs. They both shimmy into pajama bottoms, and this time Dean turns over and lets Cas wrap his arms around him. It’s kinda nice. Cas is a hard line of muscle behind him, and he makes him feel safe and warm. He huffs at the touchy-feely thoughts running through his head again, and says to Cas, “I think you’re turning me into a sap.”

“How’s that?” Castiel asks, obviously confused, seeing as he hasn’t been in Dean’s head for the last five minutes.

“Hated cuddling before you came around. Now I don’t really like sleepin’ alone anymore. Kinda like you holding on to me like this, you know? And what we just did wasn’t just sex. It was more or whatever. I was layin’ here thinkin’ about that kinda thing and a part of me doesn’t even know what the hell I’m doing thinkin’ about this shit.”

“At the risk of putting words into your mouth, it sounds like you’re in a real relationship for the first time in your adult life, and you’re coming to find trust, comfort, and maybe a sense of belonging with me that you hadn’t had before. Or at least that’s how it sounds,” Castiel offers.

“Hmm. How’d you get to be so smart, anyway?” Dean answers.

Castiel kisses the back of his neck. “Just lucky, I guess.” They’re quiet for a while, and then Castiel says, “Thank you for tonight. For dinner, and the wine, and for arranging it so we could sleep together here for once. For some of the best sex of my life,” he continues, and Dean can hear the smile in his voice. “It was one of the best nights I can remember having.”

“You deserve it,” Dean says simply. “‘Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dean wakes up the next morning with Cas still mostly curled around him - and to knocking on his front door. He groans, but gets out of bed and goes to answer the door.

“Get the hell out of bed, jerk, we’re going for breakfast,” Sam greets him and strolls right in.

Dean’s still blinking sleep out of his eyes and yawns.  _Shit_ , he thinks all of the sudden. Cas is here, and he doesn’t want him stumbling out of his bedroom looking like they fucked last night.

“I need coffee first. And a shirt. Hold your horses,” he tells him, and he goes to his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He runs a hand down Cas’s arm, and Cas turns to glare at him. Even though he’s kind of freakin’ out, Dean can still barely hide his amusement. Cas is  _not_ a morning person - and that’s putting it nicely. “Hey, babe, Sam’s here. Says he wants to go for breakfast.”

“Coffee,” Castiel grumbles. Dean kisses the side of his head and Castiel swipes at him. Dean laughs quietly.

“I’ll make you coffee, you go grab a shower. I’ll tell Sam we were drinking last night and you crashed here.” Cas narrows his eyes, and Dean knows exactly what he’s thinking. “We can tell him today, just not by saying that you slept here last night. K?” Dean gets a nod in response. Cas grabs his duffel and stumbles his way to the bathroom. Dean throws on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, adds some deodorant, and calls it a day. He’ll shower before work.

When he goes back into the kitchen to start the coffee, Sam has this shit-eating grin on his face. “You didn’t tell me you had company,” he prods.

Dean shakes his head. “It’s just Cas,” he answers.

“Aw, did you have a sleepover?” Sam teases.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean replies. “And a little bit too much to drink.” He watches as the coffee starts dripping and then realizes that Sam shouldn’t even be here this early. “Did you stop by The Roadhouse last night?”

Sam nods. “Yeah, had to hang out with Jo since you took a day off. For the first time in your entire life.” Dean shrugs, knowing that’s not gonna be enough to get Sam to back off, but willing to try anyway. “What was the special occasion?”

“Nothin’. Just wanted to blow off some steam.” Sam gives him an incredulous look, and Dean says, “Can we save the rest of the interrogation for after coffee?”

Sam answers him by walking away and making himself comfortable on the couch. Which works for Dean, because he’s definitely having a bit of a moment, wondering if these minutes are gonna be the last without Sam thinking about him differently. By the time the coffee is ready and Dean pours both himself and Cas a cup, Cas is coming into the kitchen to join him.

Cas runs his hand along Dean’s lower back, and Dean glances at where Sam’s laying on his couch, and since he’s only able to see his feet hanging over the arm, he leans back into Cas and lets him wrap his arms around him and press a series of chaste kisses into the side of his neck. Cas knows not to linger, so he backs away quickly, but Dean catches his hand before it drops away. He gives it a quick squeeze, suddenly feeling kinda cheated that he didn’t get to wake up and lounge in his bed with Cas the way he wanted to this morning. He's still feelin' all fuzzy inside after everything that happened.

Cas’s eyes are warm with understanding when Dean meets them, and Dean knows just by looking at him that Cas knows he’s freaking out about Sam. Cas arches his eyebrows, asking silently if Dean still wants to do this, and Dean nods his head. He’s ready. Even more now after last night.

Cas adds cream and sugar to his coffee, and Dean sips his own coffee, black, as he leans against the counter to wait for him to go join Sam in the living room. Cas waits beside him, drinking down as much of the coffee as quickly as he can, and Dean understands it’s because he’s trying to wake himself up before this happens. Cas gives him a quick nod, and Dean leads the way to the living room.

“Better sit your ass up unless you want us to sit on you,” Dean warns.

Sam scoffs and rearranges his too-long limbs into a sitting position. Dean and Cas sit down, and Dean is hyper-aware of how close Cas sits next to him. This is how they sit when they’re alone, but never in front of other people.

“Good morning, Sam,” Castiel greets him, like this is no big deal.

“Mornin’, Cas. How’re you feeling this morning?” Sam asks him with a little smirk on his face.

“Bit of a headache, but wine always does that to me,” Castiel confesses.

“Jess, too,” Sam comments.

Dean’s not surprised in the least when Cas finishes his coffee first. He can down it so fast because it cools down quicker with all the cream and sugar. Dean’s is still pretty hot. Cas leans over to place his mug on the end table beside the couch, and when he straightens back out, he places his hand on the inside of Dean’s thigh, and without thinking about it, Dean covers his hand with his own, and their fingers twine together like they have a thousand times before.

Then he freezes. Because he did it.  _They’re holding hands in front of Sam,_  and he feels like his heart is going to burst right out of his chest.

Sam’s not paying attention though. He’s laughing at whatever show he put on the TV before he sat down, and Dean has to sit there and finish his coffee like his heart isn’t racing its way to giving him a heart attack. Cas’s thumb brushes over the back of his hand and Dean takes an extra breath to get himself together. He’s okay. This is okay. This is going to be fine.

“Yeah, right,” Sam says in disbelief about whatever’s on TV. Dean hasn't absorbed a second of it. Sam turns towards him and says, “Can you imagine -” but then his eyes obviously fall on Cas and Dean’s clasped hands and he stops mid-sentence. His eyes flick to Cas, who’s smiling softly, and then to Dean, who probably looks like he’s trying not to shit his pants (because he is). “Dude. You’re holding hands,” Sam tells him, like Dean doesn’t know.

He clears his throat. “Yeah, I noticed,” he hears himself say. Cas squeezes his hand gently in a gesture of support and Dean realizes he would kill for the reassuring weight of Cas’s arm around him right now.

“That’s a little touchy-feely, don’t you think? Even for you two,” Sam says carefully.

Dean lets that mull around in his brain for a second.  _Even for you two_. Dean always thought they were insanely careful when they were around other people, but maybe they weren’t. Dean shrugs a shoulder in response and takes another drink from his coffee.

Dean’s very carefully  _not_ looking at Sam, but he can feel his eyes burning into him. “You know, if other people see you holding hands they’re - they’re going to think that you’re together. Like... a couple.”

Dean feels his stomach twist. He knows he’s a fucking coward, but he flicks his eyes over to Cas quickly and Cas answers for him. He is so insanely thankful for how well they know each other right now. “They would be right,” Castiel says simply. “Do you want me to get you some more coffee?” he asks Dean.

“Uh, no, thanks,” Dean answers, thrown off by how easy it seemed for Cas to say that and how he’s just acting like everything is perfectly normal when Dean feels like he might barf.

“Okay, I’m just going to grab a quick refill,” he says, the promise of coming right back heard in his tone of voice.

Cas is barely out of his seat before Sam grips Dean’s shoulder, forcing eye contact. “Cas thinks you’re dating,” Sam tells him in a whisper, like he doesn’t want Cas to hear him.

“Yeah,” Dean answers carefully.

“You have to tell him that you’re not gay. I told you this was going to happen  _forever_ ago and you didn’t listen to me!” Sam chastises him.

“He already knows I’m not gay,” Dean answers, comfortable enough to say that much at least.

“Well, you can’t just hold his hand, Dean.  _God_. He’s gay  _and_ he likes you! I don’t know how you’re not getting this!” Sam hisses, his voice still in a whisper but getting more hoarse the more worked up he gets.

“I don’t know how  _you’re_ not getting this. You’re supposed to be the smart one,” Dean counters, annoyed that Sam would think he’s that fucking dumb.

Cas comes back with his mug full of coffee again and wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulders. Dean leans into him gratefully, and almost laughs when he sees how wide his brother’s eyes are.

“What’d I miss?” Castiel asks.

“Sam thinks you’re crazy for thinking we’re dating,” Dean relays quickly, momentarily finding a bit of humor in the situation.

Sam shoots him a dirty look, and Dean feels his lips quirk into a small smile. “Cas, no,” Sam says, voice soft. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I just think... you’re confused. Dean’s straight.”

“Yes, he told me that, as well,” Castiel responds, smiling. “We are together though.”

Sam widens his eyes again, looking directly at Dean, obviously prompting him to tell Cas differently. Dean just looks back at him, silently agreeing with what Cas said.

“Dean, come on,” Sam says, but Dean thinks he hears a little bit of doubt in his voice this time.

“You know Dean doesn’t like to talk about this kind of thing,” Castiel interjects. “Believe me when I say that we  _are_ together. I’m not just crazy or misinterpreting things between us.”

Sam looks between them again and says, “Is this some kind of a joke or something? You think it’s going to be funny when I believe you and then you’re going to laugh at me for thinking you’re with Cas when I know you sleep with a different  _woman_ every week?”

“I haven’t picked up a chick in months,” Dean points out.

“Dean?” Castiel asks gently. Dean turns to look at him, and Cas cups his face in his palm, and asks if this is okay with his eyes. Dean answers by leaning in and kissing him. Not with tongue or anything because he’s not that big of a dick, but he makes sure the kiss is more than just a peck two friends might use to try to prank somebody. When they break away, Dean’s face is red as a tomato, and he deliberately looks at his knees so he doesn’t have to look at his brother.

“Holy crap,” Sam says quietly.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Castiel begins. “We just didn’t want to lie to you anymore.”

“How long?” Sam asks.

“A few months,” Dean answers him.

“We're been together almost six months,” Castiel clarifies.

“Holy crap,” Sam repeats. Dean can feel his insides burning just as much as his face. Sam isn’t taking this as well as he thought he would. He feels embarrassed and exposed and vulnerable, and he fucking hates it, so he responds with anger.

“You can go, you know,” Dean hears himself say.

“What?” Sam asks in surprise.

“If you don’t wanna be around me anymore because I’m with Cas, then just go,” Dean clarifies.

“Dean,” Castiel says softly. “Just give him a minute. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Well it shouldn’t be!” Dean argues, panic making his voice come out louder and harder than he meant it to. “Like you said, it doesn’t change anything. I’m still exactly the same as I have been my whole damn life. I thought out of everybody  _you’d_ get it the most,” he directs at Sam.

“Get what!?” Sam exclaims. “You haven’t explained anything! You said you’re not gay but you’re dating and - and  _kissing_ your best friend, and apparently you have been for months and you never even told me! What part of all this should I understand, exactly?”

“I’m  _not_ gay,” Dean reiterates. “But I’m with Cas. Deal with it.”

“So you’re bisexual?” Sam asks.

“No!” Dean denies. “I’m not into other guys, it’s just Cas.”

Sam’s eyebrows draw together. “Pansexual then?”

“I don’t even know what the fuck that is,” Dean grumbles.

Castiel huffs out a laugh beside him, before he says, “Why does he need to put a label on how he feels? He isn’t attracted to other men, but he’s attracted to me, and we have been in a relationship since the beginning of June. We’re extremely happy together. That should be all that matters.”

Sam runs his hands through his hair. “Of course that’s all that matters. I’m - I’m sorry if I didn’t react well. Obviously I don’t care that you’re with Cas, or that he’s a guy, or anything like that. It just kind of blew my mind for a minute. You haven’t even dated anybody since - since high school as far as I know, and now you’re sitting here all - all cuddled up to Cas like it’s _normal_ for you, and it’s just kind of crazy to see, you know? And not because he’s a guy, just that any of this is happening at all - has  _been_  happening - and I had no idea.”

“I get it,” Dean answers. “I do. I just - I didn’t wanna tell you at first because I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s just Cas. I just feel shit for him.”

“He’s very romantic,” Castiel adds sarcastically, leaning around Dean to talk to Sam, and Sam laughs for the first time as he drags his hands through his hair.

“Fuck you both,” Dean says lightly, and they all laugh again.

“Can we go eat now? I’m starving,” Castiel asks.

“I’m driving,” Dean says out of habit rather than necessity.

“I’ll meet you guys there,” Sam tells them. They walk down to their cars, and Dean has barely shifted out of reverse before Cas has his hand.

“That didn’t go too badly,” Castiel says carefully.

Dean nods. There was a minute there when he was afraid Sam was going to judge him or something, but it went away just as quickly as it came. “Yeah. Thought I was gonna have to punch him for a minute, but he seems okay with it over all.”

“And you? Are you okay?” Castiel asks.

Dean thinks it over. He feels okay. He feels pretty good, actually. It’s nice not having to lie to Sam anymore, and he feels lighter somehow. “Yeah, Cas, I’m good. Really good.”

“Good,” Castiel answers, voice dripping with relief.

“I kinda threw you under the bus back there. Kinda made you tell him instead of sayin’ it myself.”

Cas chuckles. “You did, but I didn’t mind.”

“You think I could just get Sam to tell Jo and Ellen and everybody else?”

“You want to tell everybody now?” Castiel asks, surprised.

“Yeah. I mean, I might as well. This thing between us isn’t going away, right?”

Dean can see Cas’s head tilt to the side in his peripheral vision, showing his confusion. “Did you think it would?”

“Yeah, I guess. I thought you woulda given up on me by now and broke up with me or something. I keep waitin’ to say the thing that’s gonna make that happen,” he chuckles humorlessly.

“Is that why you didn’t want to tell anybody?”

Dean flushes, because it’s partially true. Why bother telling everybody that he’s into a guy for the first time when he was probably going to fuck it up in record time anyway? Then he’d have to deal with Sam and everybody else asking him how he’s feeling and if he’s okay and all that shit he hates with a freakin’ passion. Dean shrugs halfheartedly. “For a while, yeah. I don’t wanna sound like a chick or something, but this feels more solid or somethin’ since, you know, last night.”

“Because we had sex?”

Dean hangs his head a little. “That helped, obviously, but I meant, uh, what you said.”

“That I love you?” Castiel clarifies, and Dean nods his head. “Did you doubt that?”

“I dunno. You said it that one time and then never said it again. Thought maybe you jumped the gun or didn’t really mean it, or you  _did_ mean it and then I fucked up and you stopped meaning it somewhere along the way.”

“I am so sorry I made you feel that way,” Castiel responds. “I think it every single day. Multiple times a day. I thought you didn’t want to hear it, it’s not that -”

“Cas, I know, baby. I get it. After you explained it last night, I get it now.”

“I’ll tell you every day if you want me to,” Castiel offers.

Dean gives a tiny nod, embarrassed to admit that he kinda does.

“I love you,” Castiel says easily.

Dean grins and feels that warm feeling inside of him again. He’s officially a teenage girl. “Thanks, Cas. But uh, seriously, do you think Sam will tell people if I ask him to?”

“I think it’s likely that he would, but I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by getting him to do it.”

“Seems pretty clear to me. He tells them so I don’t have to,” Dean explains.

“And in what world exactly do you think Sam could go tell Jo, for example, that you and I are together, and Jo doesn’t ever bring it up?” Castiel asks with laughter in his voice.

Dean feels a pout make its way to his face. Because Cas is totally right. It doesn’t matter if Sam tells them or he tells them. Jo, Charlie, even Ellen will probably have something to say.

“I hate when you’re right,” he grumbles, and Cas reaches over to sandwich Dean’s hand between his.

“We could tell them all at once, if that might be easier for you. Then you only have to say it once more, and answer the questions once. And we could make sure Sam’s there, too. I’m sure he’d jump in and explain what he can,” Castiel suggests.

Dean feels anxiety swirling in his stomach, but Cas is probably right. That’s gotta be the easiest way to do it. Rip it off quickly like a Bandaid or whatever. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’ll be the fastest way to get it done. Maybe I’ll see if Sam wants to stop by The Roadhouse for dinner or whatever. Jo and Ellen are working, too, so I could just do it at work.”

“At work? Really?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah. Nobody can get all weird on me there and I can pretend to have to do shit if they piss me off,” Dean answers, loving how easily he could dodge them at work if he had to.

“You are such a child sometimes,” Castiel comments, but Dean can hear the affection in his voice,

“Whatever. You love me,” he teases, and blushes again that he just said that out loud.

“I really do,” Castiel responds.

When they pull into Burger World, they take a peek around for Sam’s car and don’t see it yet. “Guess he took the long way,” Dean wonders aloud. They go in and sit in their preferred booth, and they’re both sipping more coffee when Sam comes in with Jess on his heels.

Dean gives his brother an annoyed look. “Really, Sam?”

“I didn’t tell her,” Sam says quickly.

Jess slides into the booth across from Dean. “Spill!” she insists.

“Morning, Jess,” Castiel interrupts.

“Good morning,” she responds brightly. “Heard you have a bit of a wine headache? Man after my heart,” she teases.

“Sadly, blondes just don’t do it for me,” Castiel jokes.

She pouts adorably and Dean squeezes Cas’s knee under the table, thankful for his distraction.

“So, Dean - “ Jess begins, but Dean cuts her off.

“Hey, look! A waitress!” he says excitedly, cutting her off again.

“Somebody’s hungry this morning,” the waitress teases. Dean doesn’t know her name, but he recognizes her from the other times they’ve been here.

“Damn right,” Dean agrees.

“What’re you havin’ today, honey?”

They all order their breakfasts, and when the waitress stacks their menus, Dean can feel Jess pin him with her eyes again.

Again, Dean is a chicken shit, and keeps his eyes on his mug of coffee.

“You know looking down at your coffee cup isn’t going to stop me from asking you again. And again. Until you tell me what your stupidly loyal brother wouldn’t. And that’s even  _after_ I offered bribes that you really don’t want to hear, but I will repeat in explicit detail if you don’t tell me!” Jess threatens.

“Ew, no,” Dean says quickly. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“If that was true than Sam would’ve told me already,” Jess points out.

Dean sighs and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling like it might give him strength or something. He looks at Sam, who has a little smile on his face like he thinks this is funny, then at Jess who’s basically pressed against the table she’s so anxious, and then at Cas, who’s looking at him like he’s waiting for his cue to throw himself under the bus again. And that’s what does it.

“Cas is my boyfriend,” he says, smiling at him. He’s never even said those words out loud before, and he gets butterflies in his stomach from hearing them, or maybe from the way Cas’s eyes go all soft on him. He’s frickin’ adorable.

He hears a sound of glee come from Jess, and when he looks back over at her she looks like a kid on Christmas morning. “For how long?”

“Beginning of June,” he answers, thrown off by how excited she is.

“Ha! I  _knew it!_ Jo owes me fifty bucks!” she whoops.

Sam and Cas both laugh a little, but Dean’s totally lost. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“No offence Cas, but it was really obvious that you’ve been into Dean for a long time,” Jess says.

“No offence taken, especially since that’s true,” Castiel replies.

Jess smiles huge again. “I noticed the way Dean’s eyes kept following you around all the time, and I asked Jo if you were maybe a little bi but she laughed at me and said you didn’t do guys.”

“I don’t,” Dean insists.

Jess just rolls her eyes, smiling at him. “Anyway, I bet her fifty bucks that you were either secretly sleeping with Cas or dating him, and that you guys would be out by Christmas. And I was right!”

Sam looks at Jess in surprise. “You didn’t think you should mention this to me at all? Dean’s my brother!”

She laughs. “I knew you’d say something to him and I didn’t want you to scare him away.”

Sam shakes his head in disbelief. “You should’ve told me.”

She ignores him completely and turns back to him and Cas. “So who made the first move?”

“Technically, you could say I did. I flirted with him the first night we met and he told me he was straight,” Castiel admits.

“But you obviously wore him down,” Sam comments.

Castiel laughs. “I like the sounds of that. That I was just so persistent he finally gave in and decided to date me despite the fact that he isn’t attracted to men.”

“But that’s not what happened?” Jess asks.

Three pairs of eyes turn to Dean and he feels his face heat up. “It has nothin’ to do with him being a guy. Woulda been a hell of a lot easier if he was a chick, probably. But there’s just somethin’ about him. He pulls me in, you know?” Jess’s eyes are all soft and even Sam’s giving him this goofy smile. He hates it. He takes the attention away from himself by bringing up Cas again. “I probably never would’ve said anything about it if the fucker didn’t try to date somebody else.”

“You did!?” Jess exclaims, looking at Cas now. Mission accomplished. “When?”

“It was my brother’s fault,” Castiel gripes. “Meddling like always. He set me up on a blind date and I had no way to contact the man to cancel, so I couldn’t just stand the poor guy up.”

“So what happened?” Jess asks, on the edge of her seat.

“I freaked out,” Dean answers. “I was sitting on his couch watchin’ him getting ready to go out with somebody else and I wanted to punch the dude in the face for even looking at Cas.”

“He asked me not to go out with anybody other than him, and of course the man showed up at my door right in the middle of Dean confessing this to me for the first time, and I had to go tell the guy I couldn’t go out with him while Dean watched. It was terribly awkward,” Castiel confesses.

“So then you asked him out?” Jess prompts.

“Not exactly,” Castiel hedges, looking at Dean for permission. Dean gives it with a roll of his eyes. “He kissed me first.”

“Had to make sure you liked it?” Jess asks.

“Jesus,” Dean curses, running his hands down his face.

“Oh, come on! I’m just curious! I’m not judging! I’ve kissed girls before,” she divulges.

Dean’s eyes widen, and Sam just grins at him. Little shit never told him that! “And did  _you_ like it?” Dean says, echoing her question back at him.

She shrugs. “It was nice, but nothing more than that for me. Now you answer,” she tells him, crossing her arms in front of her.

“We’ve been together for almost six months, so obviously I was into it.”

“I’m a terrific kisser,” Castiel adds, and Jess and Sam both laugh a little bit.

“Are we done now?” Dean asks, letting his tone of voice go rough so they get that  _he’s_ done.

“Just one more question,” Jess says. “You guys are  _together_ together? Not just friends with benefits or casually dating or something? Actually together?”

“This is the real deal,” Dean answers easily. “No foolin’ around.”

“A part of me still can’t believe this,” Sam adds. “I feel like it was yesterday that you were pumped about going out to pick up a chick for Valentine’s Day.”

“Which he never ended up doing,” Castiel says proudly.

“You said you’d never tell anybody!” Dean rounds on him.

Castiel laughs nervously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think that mattered  _now_ ,” he tries to explain.

“But wait," Jess interrupts. "You said you didn’t get together until June? Why didn’t you go out in February?”

“He felt sorry for me,” Castiel tells them.

“No, that ain’t right. I just didn’t want him to be alone. He was sad about it. You try resisting those sad eyes of his. Almost as bad as Sam. Looks like a damn puppy,” Dean grunts.

“He was very sweet,” Castiel assures Jess.

“Aw,” Jess says softly.

Dean bumps into Cas with his shoulder. “You’re a pain in my ass,” Dean grumbles at him.

Sam snorts and then covers his mouth, and Jess tries to hide her laughter but fails, and even Cas is biting his lip trying not laugh. And a split second later when Dean figures out why they’re laughing his face turns violently red. “I fucking hate all of you and I’m never telling you  _a thing_ about us ever again.”

Cas leans over and plants a smacking kiss on his cheek, and as embarrassed as he is, he’s also really fucking happy that Cas can do that in front of Sam and Jess now, so he lets his face crack on the grin he was considering holding back. But he does wipe his cheek like he’s wiping the kiss off, which earns him an elbow in the ribs.

“All joking aside, I’m really happy for you both. I did mention to Sam a few months ago how much happier you seemed, and now I guess I know why,” Jess says kindly.

“Huh, I forgot about that,” Sam comments.

“What do you think other people are gonna say?” Dean asks them shyly.

“Nobody knows?” Jess asks.

“Just you guys. I was kinda thinking that I’d tell everybody all at once. You wanna swing by The Roadhouse for dinner tonight?”

“If you want us to be there, we’ll be there,” Sam answers, and Jess nods along.

“Dean’s hoping that we’ll help dodge the questions for him so he doesn’t have to keep talking about it over and over,” Castiel explains.

“I can probably explain it better to them than Dean did to me anyway,” Sam jokes.

“And now I asked all the important couple questions, so I can help with that. Honestly though, you’re not acting like it’s that hard to talk about,” Jess remarks. “I’ve seen you way worse.”

“Gets a little easier every time I say it,” Dean agrees. “Helps that Cas can comfort me now without it being weird, too.” Jess makes a face and Dean says, “ _Do not_ aw at me again!”

“Sorry!” Jess replies, though she doesn’t look sorry at all. “I just never thought I’d see you like this. You know you’re like my annoying big brother, and I’m just happy to see you found somebody that makes you go all mushy.”

Hard to stay mad at that, Dean realizes. He can’t even argue with it.

“Yeah, you’re like my annoying little sister, too. Nowhere close to as annoying as Sammy is though,” Dean teases.

“Ha ha,” Sam says sarcastically.

The rest of breakfast passes without incident. As Dean is waiting in line to pay for breakfast, he realizes he’s a little surprised about how easy it is to be with Cas and Sam and Jess at the same time. He glances back at the table and sees Cas and Sam deep in what appears to be a serious conversation. He smiles when he thinks about how affectionate Cas was this morning. He had a hand on his knee, or he rested their shoulders together, and when Dean goes back to their table after paying, Cas bumps their hands together on the way out to the car, which Dean knows is his way of asking if he can hold his hand. He takes it without thinking about it.

On the way back to Dean’s apartment, Cas’s hand is drifting higher and higher up the inside of his leg, and by the time they pull into the parking lot, Cas is rubbing over the front of his jeans and Dean’s panting with desire. He slides halfway over the bench seat and pulls Cas on top of him, and their lips meet in a hard and passionate kiss. He grips Cas’s hips and urges him to rut on top of him, and Cas obliges him by grinding down on him hard.

Dean whimpers when Cas brushes his thumbs over his nipples.

“Somebody could see us,” Castiel gasps once Dean’s lips find his neck.

“Fuck,” Dean groans. “I want you, Cas.”

“Upstairs, then,” Castiel tells him, but he grinds down even harder and Dean lets his head fall back.

“If you make me come in my pants again I’m going to kill you,” Dean threatens. Then Cas slides off of his lap gracelessly and climbs out of the car, rearranging his erection in his jeans while he shoots Dean a cocky smile.

“Come on,” Castiel prompts him.

Right. He’s supposed to get out of the car, too.

They barely make it through the door before their shirts come off and their pants and boxers get pushed to the floor. They make their way to the couch, stroking each other and kissing desperately, until Dean pushes Cas down onto the couch. He climbs on top of him, getting into the sixty-nine position, and wastes no time taking Cas’s cock into his mouth.

Neither of them lasts long when they do this, but Dean was already riled up by Cas in his car, so he figures this’ll get them off quick and dirty the way they both seem to want right now. When he loses himself immediately in the perfect blow job Cas is giving him, he silently praises himself for such a great idea. He feels what he thinks is a finger work its way in alongside his cock, and tries to maneuver himself so he can see what Cas is doing. Cas turns his head so he can talk, and says, “Trust me, okay?”

Dean nods. He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do, but he trusts him. Cas seems to pull out all his best tricks after that, and he has Dean completely forgetting about his finger and moaning around the cock in his mouth in record time.

Then he feels something wet press against his asscrack and he jerks away. But Cas keeps his finger steady, and when Cas tongues his cockhead, he can’t help but moan again. Then Cas rubs gently across his asshole, and Dean moans for a completely different reason.  _Fuck._ Cas was right. It  _is_ sensitive. It feels insanely good. Every time he feels Cas’s spit-slicked finger rub against his rim a bolt of desire goes straight to his already engorged cock.

He’s not going to last if Cas keeps doing that to him.

He hollows his cheeks and sucks as hard as he can on Cas’s cock in his mouth, bobbing his head up and down quickly, trying to get Cas off as fast as he can since he’s about to blow. He leans on his elbow and takes Cas’s length into his hand to stroke what he can’t fit in his mouth, and when Cas starts making sounds underneath him he knows he’s getting close.

Dean can feel his orgasm building, and then Cas presses his finger against his hole - not into him, just  _there_ \- and Dean feels his orgasm coming.

The vibration of another moan around Cas’s cock is apparently all Cas can take, because Dean tastes the first splash of salty cum inside his mouth, and he locks his lips around him to suck down every drop.

His body tightens and he’s just about to let go when he hears his front door open. He pops his head up and sees Sam standing in the doorway with a lock of utter shock and complete horror all over his face. Dean pulls his mouth off of Cas quickly.

“Sam?” Dean says hoarsely.

Castiel jerks in surprise under him, and Dean’s cock knocks into the roof of Cas’s mouth. His brain knows he has to stop but his dick doesn’t get the memo, and the hard press of his cock against the roof of Cas’s mouth pushes him over the edge into his orgasm.

An involuntary moan spills out of him as he's filled with pleasure and his eyes close automatically, but he’s also thinking,  _I’m coming in Cas’s mouth with my brother watching._ He can’t pull out of his mouth or he’ll come all over Cas’s face and seeing that has to be worse than seeing this! Cas has no choice but to swallow, and feeling Cas swallowing around him only sends tremors of additional desire through Dean and he still can’t believe his body is reacting like this without his permission in front of his fucking brother.

The second he can feel himself finish, he gets up off of Cas, rolls him to face the couch in a desperate move to protect his boyfriend's modesty, and grabs a pillow to hold in front of his junk while he looks around for his boxers. Sam has his back turned and the door still wide open, and Dean curses under his breath until he finally finds boxers, which happen to be Cas’s, but he pulls them on anyway.

“What the fuck, Sam? You ever hear of fucking  _knocking_?”

“I forgot my phone on the coffee table,” Sam answers quickly. Dean spins and sees it sitting there, lit up. “I was calling it but you obviously didn’t hear it... and now I kinda get why.”

Dean’s face is  _burning_ with embarrassment but he goes to get the phone, wiping his hand still wet with saliva and Cas's spunk off on Cas’s boxers quickly before he picks it up, and brings it over to Sam. They both actively avoid looking at each other when he passes it to him.

“So I’m gonna go, you know, and I’m sorry for - for interrupting,” Sam says.

“You ever bring this up again and I’ll fucking kill you,” Dean warns him.

“Believe me, I’ll be doing everything possible to forget this ever happened. I’ll, uh, see you later at work.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes as he shuts the door and fucking locks it this time.

He’s torn away from his own thoughts when he hears Cas starting to laugh on the couch.

He whirls on him. “Are you seriously laughing at this right now?”

Cas can’t seem to catch his breath, and now Dean kinda wants to punch  _him_. “I’m sorry,” he gasps out.

“Yeah, you sound real fucking sorry,” Dean says sarcastically.

He strips off Cas’s boxers to swap them for his, and then pulls on his clothes, and throws Cas’s at him as he finds them. Once they’re both dressed, Dean starts pacing between the kitchen and the living room, not sure what else he’s supposed to do, and only stops once Cas gets in his way. He tries to shove his way past him, but Cas’s hands lock onto his biceps and hold him there. Dean meets his eyes begrudgingly, and while there’s still amusement in them, he looks worried, too.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asks him.

“I don’t frickin’ know! Should I be? Would  _you_ be if Sam was your brother?” Dean counters.

“My brother likely would have watched for a while before offering tips on how to blow you better,” Castiel explains, and Dean feels a tiny smile come to his face. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about you. Are you… upset with me?”

“No,” he answers quickly, and he feels Cas’s hands loosen his hold on his arms a little bit. “I just... Fuck. I obviously didn’t want anybody to see me, see us, like that.”

“He should have knocked,” Castiel says, repeating what Dean said earlier. He slides his hands up Dean’s arms and winds them around his neck. Dean feels immediately calmer, and pulls Cas in closer so that his face presses into the space beneath his chin. He breathes in, taking a deep breath, and inhales the familiar scent of Cas mixed with sex.

His lips curve into a genuine smile now. “Before my stupid moose of a brother walked in, that was pretty intense.”

“You liked it when I touched you,” Castiel says. Cas probably knows Dean would never have admitted to that if he straight up asked him.

“Do we hafta talk about that?” Dean sighs, embarrassed all over again.

“Not if you don’t want to tell me to back off from  _there_ ,” Castiel suggests, giving him an opening to say he’s not into it. Dean doesn’t.

“Good,” Dean answers.

They stand there for another minute or two before Cas’s shoulders start shaking again. Dean pushes him away to give him a look, and Cas explains, “Just thinking about that look on Sam’s face when he realized what was going on.”

Dean can see it clear as day in his mind, and despite his lingering embarrassment of being caught with a dick in his mouth and a finger stimulating his asshole, he feels his lips quirk in a smile. “That’s gonna scar him for life,” Dean realizes, and Cas laughs outright again.

“The timing is particularly hilarious after he tried to give me  _the speech_ when you were paying our bill earlier,” Castiel divulges.

“What speech?” Dean asks.

“You know, the ‘If you ever hurt my brother I’ll kill you,’ speech, mixed with a healthy dose of skepticism about your sexuality and a suggestion about not letting this ruin our friendship if you slip up and go back to your old ways with random women because you’re not completely happy. In bed. If that wasn’t clear.”

Dean’s eyes go wide. “Are you shitting me?”

“I shit you not,” Castiel replies dryly. “He said several times that ‘we all know Dean’s not gay’, as if he has a better idea of how you feel than I do. If it had been anybody else, I would have told him that your sexuality and our sex life is none of his business and I would appreciate it if he kept his opinion to himself. But instead I just smiled the best I could and told him I understood his concern. Jess was side-eyeing him pretty hard though, so I’m sure he got it from her later.”

Dean can see the anger swirling under Cas’s calm exterior. “Is that what the car was all about?”

Cas shrugs sheepishly. “In a way, I suppose. I let him make me feel insecure about the way you feel about me, and it was easy to prove him wrong by touching you instead of asking you about it. I shouldn't have done that,” he seems to realize.

“Now I’m really gonna kick his ass,” Dean bursts out. He feels an urgent need to convey to Cas just how wrong his brother is. Dean's never been more sexually satisfied in his entire life. Cas is  _perfect_  for him in bed and everywhere else! “You know he’s not right, right?”

Dean gets a rare full smile from Cas, and he tries to remember again to tell him things like this more often. “I admit your brother gave me a moment of doubt, but I appreciate you telling me that he’s wrong. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

“Well, anytime you need me to prove to you how bad I want you, I’m willing to help you out with that,” Dean says with a wink.

Castiel blushes and Dean leans in to kiss him. He hopes he never stops blushing like that when he winks at him. He’s adorable.

 

 

After a few text messages back and forth between him and Sam that afternoon, they decide to meet for dinner at The Roadhouse at seven. It’s a little late, but there’s usually a bit of a lull between customers who were there to eat and the few who come in to drink on a Sunday night right around then. Cas shows up first, about ten minutes to seven, and Dean knows it’s because he wants to check on him first.

He’s still good though. He wants to do this for Cas, especially after how Sam made him feel this morning, and he shows Cas he’s okay with it by shooting him a big, confident smile and getting him a beer. He slides it across the bar and lets their fingers brush intentionally, making eye contact and softening his expression for him. He gets a shy smile back in return, and then Cas breaks his gaze and looks around.

“Should I go claim that booth over there or should I stay at the bar?” he asks him.

“Just stay here. Then Jo’ll come over when Sam and Jess get here, and I can grab Ellen when there’s no orders,” Dean decides. Then he sees a flash of red and looks up to see Charlie basically skip through the front door. “Well if it isn’t my favorite girl,” Dean calls out.

“Little ole me?” Charlie says with a fake western accent. She takes the stool next to Cas and gives his hair a little ruffle to say hello. “Dean says that to all the women who come in here, doesn’t he?” she asks conspiratorially.

“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” Castiel replies, and Dean looks away to hide his smile. He knows what Cas really meant, but Charlie didn’t, and he thinks for the millionth time how witty and smart Cas is.

“What’re you drinkin’ tonight?” he asks Charlie.

“Just soda for me,” she tells him. “What’s the occasion tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks her.

“Sam said everybody was meeting up. I hardly ever get invited here, I just come by to make sure you don’t forget about me,” Charlie comments, eyes glittering with mischief.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” Dean replies. teasing her.

“Ooooh I  _love_ surprises!” she exclaims.

Sam and Jess come in next, and Dean notices Sam still doesn’t look at him in the face. Not that he can blame him. Though honestly, he’s feeling a lot less embarrassed about what happened earlier now that he knows Sam gave Cas a hard time. Karma and all that.

He has to wait almost an hour before the bar’s empty enough to get everybody together. He grabs Ellen from the kitchen, and then suddenly he has five pairs of eyes staring at him.

“What’s the big idea, boy?” Ellen asks, arms crossed across her chest.

“I just wanted to tell you guys something. And I wanted to tell you all at the same time so I don’t have to keep talking about it over and over,” Dean starts.

“We all know how much Dean hates to talk about anything that’s important,” Sam contributes.

“And how much Sammy runs his mouth when it’s none of his damn business,” Dean says directly to Sam.

Sam’s lips form a tight line but he doesn’t say anything.

“So it’s something important?” Charlie prompts.

“It’s not a big deal or anything,” Dean says. “It’s just, uh, me and Cas, we’re going out. Have been for a few months.”

Jo laughs. “You guys go out all the time. You think we’re dumb or something?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Obviously you kinda are, blondie. We’re together. Cas is my boyfriend.”

Charlie lets out what can only be described as a squeal and launches herself at Cas, wrapping both of her arms around him and jumping up and down excitedly. Dean could kiss her when he sees the big smile she’s responsible for on Cas’s face.

“Good for you kid. ‘Bout time you grew outta sleeping around,” Dean hears Ellen say from behind him. He gets his ass whipped by the towel in her hand, and he smiles shyly at her. Ellen raises her voice and says, “Hey, Cas? You hurt him and you have to answer to me, you hear?”

Cas nods solemnly and says, “Yes, ma’am.”

“So, what? You spend ten years screwing every woman in town and now all of the sudden you want us to believe you get it up for dick?” Jo asks.

“Joanna Beth!” Ellen chastises her.

Dean turns towards Jo, surprised by the tone of voice and the words she chose to use, and sees her cheeks are stained red and her eyes are hard with challenge.

Dean takes a page out of Cas’s book and says, “I don’t know how you think that’s any of your business.”

“Come on, Jo. Have I taught you nothing? Attraction isn’t always about what somebody has between their legs. Sometimes it’s about who the person is on the inside,” Charlie interjects.

“Yeah, right,” Jo scoffs. “Like Dean’s ever given a shit about what somebody’s like on the inside. It’s always been the hottest chick in the bar who gets his attention. Nobody else.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Dean asks her, his temper flaring.

“You’re not gay!” Jo shouts.

“I never said I was!” Dean responds.

“This is dumb. I have work to do,” she says, grabbing a cloth to go wipe down a table. She turns to Cas on her way by and sneers, “Congratulations.”

Charlie’s out of her seat immediately and follows her to the table she’s just about to wipe down.

“That went well,” Jess says sarcastically.

Dean laughs humorlessly. “And people wonder why I don’t talk about the important shit.” He runs his hands through his hair and says, “I’ll be right back,” before he takes off through the door to the kitchen and hangs a quick right to the tiny closet that passes as an office for him.

He isn’t surprised when he hears somebody following after him, and he knows without having to look that it’s Cas. Cas closes the door behind them, and Dean allows himself to be pulled into Cas’s arms.

Castiel just holds him tight for a minute before he says, “For what it’s worth, I thought you handled that admirably.”

“She was a jerk,” Dean says, still surprised by Jo’s behavior.

“She was. But on the positive side of things, everybody who means anything to you knows now. You won’t have to deal with a reaction like that from somebody that matters again.”

Dean feels a little bit of the hurt ease away when Cas says that.

“And now I don’t have to worry about it lookin’ like I like you too much,” Dean realizes.

“Because you do,” Castiel smiles.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean agrees. He leans in to press their lips together softly, and Cas lets out a happy little sigh. “Can you believe we actually told people? Part of me didn’t think I’d ever want to at first.”

“I’m glad you did. I’m proud of you. I’m proud to be  _with you_ and I’m very pleased I get to make everybody jealous by showing off my extremely hot boyfriend,” Castiel admits.

“Hmmm. You might have a bit of an exhibitionist kink,” Dean teases.

“I think it’s just a Dean Winchester kink,” Castiel disagrees. Cas kisses him again and then says, “I love you.”

Dean’s grin spreads across his face quickly, and he looks down at the ground, still slightly embarrassed about how happy hearing that makes him.

“You ready to go back out there?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah. Thanks, you know, for everything,” Dean stumbles.

“Anytime,” Castiel promises.

Dean’s the one who takes Cas’s hand and holds it tight when they walk back to the bar, and this time they  _both_ have shy smiles on their faces when they walk through the door. He drops his hand quickly when he sees a customer approach the bar, but Cas doesn’t seem to mind. He still lets out a big sigh of relief. They’re together and now everybody who matters knows, and even if Jo’s being a bitch about it, Dean’s happy and that’s all he lets himself think about right now.


	6. Chapter 6

**December:**

Dean and Cas are in the shower together, and Dean’s gasping for air after being pushed face first against the shower wall. Cas has one lubed up finger sliding across the cleft of his ass, and Dean’s hovering somewhere between being petrified he’s actually going to finger him this time and biting his lip trying not to ask for it. Cas has been teasing him for weeks. Ghosting his fingers over his hole but never doing anything else. A really big part of Dean wants it but he can never find the words to ask for it. Cas applies the tiniest little bit of pressure and Dean swears he can feel sparks fly inside of him. He isn’t able to muffle the sound of pleasure, and he can hear Cas gasp behind him.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” Castiel warns him, voice rough.

Dean’s heart is pounding and his dick is almost painfully hard. Is he really going to let Cas do this? In his mind, liking ass play is as close to gay as he can get, and he doesn’t want to be gay. But Cas pushes in the tiniest little bit and Dean forgets everything but the sensation of something breaching his asshole for the first time in his life. He closes his eyes and focuses on the slick finger slowly wiggling its way inside of him.

It’s really freaking weird. He kind of feels like he has to…

Castiel cuts off his thoughts with, “Just wait. Get used to it. I promise it’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

“Feels really fucking weird,” Dean whispers. He doesn’t even know how Cas hears him.

“I know,” Castiel answers, his voice equally soft. He presses kisses down the back of Dean’s neck and wraps his free hand around his waist to slowly trail down towards Dean’s now flagging erection. It only takes a few strokes to get Dean hard again, and Cas’s erection pressing against his hip definitely helps. Even if Dean isn’t into the finger in his ass right now, Cas definitely is.

“Okay?” Castiel asks.

Dean just nods.

Cas pulls his finger out just barely and pushes back in again. After a few passes it begins to feel… different. Not as weird as it did a minute ago. Dean’s confused by the dual sensations of the pleasure he’s feeling from Cas stroking his cock and the slide of his finger inside of him. He feels good but he knows it isn’t from the finger, and yet he still wants… more. He gets it when Cas pulls out further and further with each thrust of his finger, until he’s almost all the way out, stimulating his sensitive rim on each movement. Dean’s breathing is coming harder and faster, and Cas starts feeling around inside of him.

Dean makes a high-pitched sound of euphoria when Cas brushes over his prostate for the first time.  _Jesus Christ_ , he thinks. Cas prods it again while still stroking his cock, and the third time has Dean suddenly coming so hard his vision dulls. He’s painting the shower tiles white with cum while Cas strokes him through it, and he slumps forward to support himself against the wall once he’s spent. He barely registers Cas’s finger slipping out of him. Ragged breaths are coming from his mouth now and he can hardly believe how fast and how hard he just came.

He belatedly turns his head to check on Cas and gets an eyeful of his boyfriend fucking his fist. Cas’s mouth hangs open and when their eyes meet over Dean’s shoulder, Cas comes with a cry and spills all over Dean’s ass. Cas gets off on coming on Dean, and while Dean wasn’t into it at first, he doesn’t mind so much now. Especially since they’re in the shower.

“How do I look, Cas?” Dean prompts him, wiggling his ass for him.

“So fucking hot,” Castiel answers, his voice breathy. He’s still stroking himself through his orgasm, and Dean asks one more question.

“You like my ass?”

“Fuck, yes. So unbelievably tight,” Castiel groans.

Dean doesn’t know why that makes him feel so good, but it does, and he turns around completely so Cas can push him up against the wall and slide their lips together again. When they finally break away minutes later, they take turns cleaning each other up, and Dean’s mind wanders between slow kisses and soapy caresses.

Dean wonders idly if Cas wants to fuck him some day, but he isn’t sure he’s ready to hear the answer to that yet. He isn’t ever going to ask him to, either. One finger was okay, good even, once Cas hit his prostate, but he’s not ready for anything more than that right now.

A few weeks later, Dean’s doing the dishes that were left in Cas’s sink from the night before when Cas gets home from work. Cas takes one look at him, gets that soft smile on his face, and then he walks over to him and wraps his arms around Dean from behind.

Dean worked nights the last two nights so they didn’t get to see each other, and Dean’s apparently already touch-starved (not that he’d ever admit it out loud). He leans against him needily, and Cas’s hands drift up over his stomach and brush over his nipples. Cas finds that one little spot behind Dean’s ear that drives him crazy and nuzzles into it before he feels his teeth drag across his skin.

“Miss me?” Dean teases.

“Dry off your hands and let me get you naked,” Castiel suggests.

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Dean grabs for a hand towel, completely disregarding the rest of the dishes, and gasps when he feels Cas’s hardening cock press against his ass.

“Mmmm,” Castiel hums against his neck, his hips rolling and pressing his dick against the curve of his ass again and again as Dean gets his hands dry. Cas drops his hands to palm at Dean through his jeans and Dean drops his head back onto Cas’s shoulder.

Cas is basically humping his ass and Dean only has a split second to think about how he feels completely powerless and how much he might kinda like that before his hands are dry and he drops the towel.

Castiel spins him back around, and since Cas seemed to be in a hurry he thought they’d go to the living room, but Cas pushes him towards the stairs and they make their way to Cas’s bedroom, losing clothes as they go. They’re both down to their boxers by the time they walk through the bedroom door and then Cas pulls even those off of them both, and pushes Dean down onto the bed and into a sitting position with his back to the headboard. He rifles through his nightstand and grabs the bottle of lube, and then Dean’s jaw drops as he watches Cas squirt it onto his own fingers and lift one leg up onto the bed. Cas’s hand drops down between his legs and he closes his eyes as he slowly pushes two fingers into his hole.

“Holy shit,” Dean gasps. He’s never seen Cas prep himself, and he’s never seen a guy do this period. He wants to see better. “Turn around so I can watch,” Dean asks. Cas shoots him a cocky smile, his eyelids drooping heavily already, and spins so that Dean has a better view. Watching Cas’s fingers disappear into his hole is fucking _hot,_ and Dean doesn’t hesitate at all before he grabs the bottle of lube, grips his erection in his hand, and starts stroking himself with a loose fist.

Castiel moves a lot faster with himself than Dean ever does with him, and it seems like no time at all before Cas has three fingers sliding in and out of himself. His fingers are gone just as quickly as they started, and then Cas is wiping his hand on the bedsheets and climbing on top of Dean.

His voice is low and rough when he looks Dean in the eye and says, “I’m going to fuck myself on your cock. I’m in control. I get to choose how fast or how slow we go, and your only job is to sit back and enjoy the ride. Does that sound okay?”

Dean doesn’t think he can form actual words, so he nods his consent. Cas grips Dean’s cock, already slicked up from Dean, and positions himself so he’s up on his knees just hovering over him.

“I want to show you how good it can feel to give control to somebody you trust. How amazing it is when you let go and give somebody else permission to just take pleasure from you. Will you let me do that?” Castiel asks him. Dean nods again, and then his head drops back against the headboard when Cas lowers himself onto his cock and he’s suddenly surrounded by that perfectly hot tightness he’s come to love so much.

“Fuck that feels good,” Dean gasps.

“I’m going to make you feel so much better,” Castiel promises, his voice husky already. He leans in and presses his lips to Dean’s, and the kiss changes quickly from soft and slow to hard and needy. Cas starts rocking on top of him, and with Cas’s weight pinning him down, there isn’t much Dean could do to help him along even if he wanted to. So he does what Cas asked him to do, and just lets Cas lead. He concentrates on kissing Cas the best he can, using every trick in the book he knows that Cas likes, and he gets these tiny little whimpers from him in response.

“Your mouth, Dean. You don’t know how much I love this mouth of yours,” Cas says on a sigh.

“Show me,” Dean goads him. Because while he is inside of Cas, and that’s awesome, he’s not really moving enough for there to be much friction, and Dean wants  _more_.

Thankfully, Cas seems on board with that, because he starts lifting his hips and sliding back down on Dean instead of just rocking back and forth. The addition of friction, of feeling Cas sinking down on him over and over again while Dean lays there and lets himself be used for pleasure is intoxicating.

He never knows when Cas is going to speed up and slam down on top of him, or when he’s going to change the angle of his hips, or when he’s going to start rocking slowly on top of him again. It’s exhilarating and exciting and he’s never let himself be  _taken_ like this before.

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and pulls his body closer to his so he can keep kissing him while he rocks with him inside. Dean goes with it for a few minutes until he can’t stand it anymore and grabs at his back, wordlessly asking for a faster pace. Except Cas doesn’t budge.

“C’mon baby, I need you,” Dean whines.

“You have me,” Castiel reminds him. He brings his hands up to cup his face and kisses him so tenderly, so perfectly, Dean can feel it fill him up inside the way only Cas can. “I love you,” Cas says softly.

Dean still doesn’t have the words to say back to him. What he says instead is, “You’re perfect, baby. So perfect.” He knows it isn’t enough, and he tries to kiss the look of disappointment off of Cas’s face, hoping he can show him how much he cares about him without having to say it.

Castiel sinks down a little harder after that. He braces himself on Dean’s shoulders and starts bouncing quickly on Dean’s cock. Dean can’t tear his eyes away from the way Cas’s biceps bulge and his cock bobs as he starts rolling his hips up and down in a sinful grind so dirty, and so perfect that Dean’s jaw drops open. “How the fuck did you learn to move like that?”

Cas just nips at his bottom lip and hums into his mouth.

“You’re so hot, Cas,” Dean tells him. He feels like he doesn’t tell him enough. “You look so fucking good on top of me.”

Castiel groans. “I want -" but he stops himself.

Dean can guess well enough. “You wanna be on top of me? You wanna top, Cas? You wanna fuck me?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Castiel gasps, his eyes slipping closed. They snap open again and Cas swallows, “I’m sorry. I -"

Dean leans in and shuts him up with a kiss. He can’t bring himself to say the idea kind of turns him on, but he can show him. He can kiss him quick and dirty and run his hands down to squeeze his ass.

Castiel lifts his hips and slams down on him.

“Fuck,” Dean curses. Cas does it again, and again, and Dean’s gripping his hips now hard enough that he might leave bruises, and still, Cas doesn’t stop.

“I’m almost there,” Castiel pants. “Touch me,” Castiel begs him, and Dean wraps his hand around his thick girth quickly.

“Don’t stop, baby,” Dean begs. “Feels so fucking good. You’re fucking me so good, Cas.”

Cas’s eyes slip closed again and he bites down on his bottom lip. Dean knows Cas is close and trying not to come, but he doesn’t slow down, and it only takes sinking down on him twice more before Cas comes all over Dean’s hand and stomach. As usual, the sight of Cas coming is enough to get Dean off too, and this time it comes with the added bonus of knowing Cas just used his cock exactly how he wanted it to get himself off best without Dean having to do anything at all, and the thought makes Dean pour deep into Cas’s ass as Cas clenches around him.

Cas slumps forwards and rests his face on Dean’s chest.

“Holy shit,” Dean gasps. “You’re like a fucking porn star. I had no idea you could move like that, babe.”

“Mmmhmm,” Castiel answers.

“I should do the dishes more often,” Dean jokes, and once Cas starts laughing, Dean doesn’t seem to be able to stop, and the two of them dissolve into laughter.

A few days later they’re at Dean’s apartment after Dean picks Cas up from work after a rare day shift, and once again they barely make it out of the Impala without fucking in it. Once they make it inside the apartment, Dean finds himself in the exact opposite situation they were in the last time at Cas’s place. Cas is completely naked, lying back against his headboard, and Dean climbs towards Cas on his knees. Cas hooks his hand around Dean’s neck and pulls him in close for a filthy kiss. His hands slide down his back and move to his hips, and Cas urges him to straddle his lap.

Dean’s heart starts beating faster, and he feels kind of nervous because he’s never been on top in this position before. Cas keeps kissing him until he relaxes again, and then pulls him down so that their cocks are pressed together.  _Oh._  This is okay. They’ve done this a million times. Cas gropes blindly for the lube they habitually stash under a pillow for easy access, and he pours it into Dean’s hand. Dean slicks them up quickly and wraps his hand around them both and starts stroking them together.

Cas’s hands go to Dean’s hips and he urges him to rock against him. Dean moans into his mouth when he gets a rhythm going. His hips start coming up into each thrust and now Cas is the one moaning under him.

“Can I touch you?” Castiel pants.

Dean knows what that means by now, and he’s starting to come to terms with how good it makes him feel, so he nods his consent. Cas grabs the lube again and slicks up two of his fingers and sides them under Dean. Dean holds still until Cas presses his first finger into him, the now-familiar slide causing a bolt of pleasure to shoot through his body. When Cas stays still longer than usual Dean opens his eyes and looks at Cas.

“Move,” Castiel urges him, and Dean realizes he’s in control this time.

He lifts his hips slightly, and then pushes back down. It’s a little awkward since Dean isn’t used to moving like this, but it isn’t long before he figures out how to move to get Cas’s finger to hit his prostate. Cas is sliding in and out easily now, and then on the next grind of his hips he feels a second finger prodding at his entrance. This is new. His eyes fly open and Cas is asking permission with his expression.

Dean nods, and lifts his hips for a second before he lowers himself down slowly. His jaw drops at the alien sensation of his insides stretching as he sinks down bit by bit, but Cas covers Dean’s hand wrapped around their cocks and reminds him to keep stroking, and he instantly forgets to worry about it. His hips start rocking again, and he moans loudly when he feels how much better two fingers feel than one.

“You feel so good, Dean,” Castiel gasps against his lips.

“You do,” Dean argues.

“You look so hot on top of me. Like you’re riding me. So unbelievably sexy,” Castiel praises him. Another bolt of desire shoots through Dean at those words and he realizes he  _wants_ to ride Cas someday. Cas crooks his fingers, helping Dean to hit his prostate more easily, and Dean drops his head against Cas’s shoulder.

“I’m close,” Dean warns him. Cas nuzzles into his temple, kissing the side of his face over and over until Dean lifts his head again and meets Cas’s lips. His hips speed up without his permission, and his free hand comes up to brace himself on Cas’s shoulder, and now with his hand steadying him, he finds he can thrust down harder and faster.

Fucking himself on Cas’s fingers while he jerks both him and Cas in his hand is quickly becoming too much. He can feel his orgasm approaching, and he throws his head back with his eyes closed when Cas’s fingers hit his prostate again, his back curves like a bow, and he feels Cas’s mouth hot on his chest. His tongue flicks across one of Dean’s nipples and the additional stimulation pushes him over the edge. Dean comes between them, clenching down on the fingers inside of him as he calls Cas’s name on a broken shout.

The next morning in the shower, Castiel sucks him off quickly and perfectly. He swallows down every drop of Dean’s cum, and when Dean’s still recovering, he spins him and pushes him against the shower wall again.

Dean jolts when he feels the first slippery slide of Cas’s cock along the crack of his ass.

“Shh,” Castiel soothes him. “It’s okay.”

Dean’s heart is still pounding, but he trusts him.

“Squeeze your legs together,” Castiel urges him, and then Dean gets it.

Cas slides his dick along the crack of Dean’s ass, and Dean shudders at the feeling. Cas is panting loudly, thrusting wildly, and he has Dean’s hips in a death grip.

“I want you, Dean. I want you so bad,” Castiel moans.

The rhythm, the motions, the way Cas is thrusting against him is so much  _like_ sex that Dean hears himself breathing harshly again. Is this would it would feel like? Cas’s body hard against his, his hips pushing into him, planting kisses down his back as he fucks him? A small desperate sound comes from Dean, and he realizes his dick is making a valiant effort at coming back to life for a round two. Fuck, he wants Cas.

“I want you,” he hears himself admit. “Want you to -“ but Dean chokes on his words.

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel rasps. “You want me inside of you?’

“Y-yes,” Dean answers.

“ _Fuck_ ” Castiel gasps, and his hips stutter as he finds his release.

Dean has a cocky smile on his face knowing that he just made Cas come by admitting that, but panic is swirling in his stomach, too. He wants Cas, and Cas wants him, and it’s fucking scary. He can feel Cas’s forehead resting between his shoulder blades as he tries to catch his breath, and then he straightens himself up.

“We need to talk about this,” Castiel says.

“Not now,” Dean insists. He spins to face him so that Cas can see that he’s not running away from this conversation, he just isn’t ready quite yet. “Soon,” Dean promises. “I just realized it for myself, and I need to, you know, get comfortable with the idea.”

Castiel kisses him softly. “Take however much time you need. No pressure.”

That warmth he always associates with Cas bubbles up inside of him again and he kisses him back. “Least I know a new way to turn you on now,” he teases.

Cas rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, and Dean thinks this is one hell of a way to start a day.

Dean takes the coward’s way out and texts Cas about it a few weeks later. Cas has tried to talk about it several times but he can’t make himself get the words out.

 

 **DEAN:**  I know I’m a pussy but can we talk about the sex thing like this?

 **DEAN:** It’s easier to talk about without having to actually talk.

 **CAS:** If that’s what you need, then of course. What do you want to talk about?

 

Dean’s hands shake as he types out the words.

 

 **DEAN:** I like it when you finger me

 **CAS:** I noticed :)

 **DEAN:** Does sex feel… like that… when you bottom?

 **CAS:** Like fingers? Similar, but it’s so much better. I feel fuller, in the best possible way. Plus, I feel more connected with you than when it’s just fingers.

 

Dean starts typing and then erases the next question about a dozen times. He knows Cas can see the little dots appearing and disappearing, but he waits. Finally, Cas starts typing and Dean stops.

 

 **CAS:** You know whatever you’re afraid to say to me right now isn’t going to change anything between us, right? I will never judge you or laugh at you or think less of you or anything else you’re worrying about. Just talk to me, Dean. It’s just me. I want to help you.

 

Dean takes a deep breath.

 

 **DEAN:** If I let you have sex with me does it make me gay?

 **CAS:** I can’t tell you what sexual orientation you identify with. That has to come from you.

 **CAS:** I will say that having anal sex and enjoying it doesn’t automatically “make you” gay, if that’s what you’re asking. Lots of straight people enjoy anal sex. Men and women alike.

 **DEAN:** I feel like it’s… girly or something. Like I’m less of a man if I do this.

 **CAS:** You truly believe I would feel that way about you afterwards?

 **DEAN:** No! Not you! Other people.

 **CAS:** … How many people do you plan to tell about this?

 

Dean laughs at himself. Fuck, he can be stupid sometimes. And Cas is an asshole.

 

 **DEAN:** Yeah, yeah. I get your point. Nobody has to know but us.

 **CAS:** Is it you that feels that way? Like you would be less of a man if you let me have sex with you?

 **DEAN:** Maybe. I dunno.

 **CAS:** Do you ever feel that way when we do other things together? Oral sex, maybe?

 **DEAN:** No. And I get why you’re asking. If sucking a dick doesn’t make me feel girly why should taking one?

 **CAS:** Why indeed :)

 **DEAN:** Do you really want to?

 **CAS:** I am happy with the way things are :)

 **DEAN:** What if I never want to?

 **CAS:** Then I would happily go the rest of my life without it.

 **DEAN:** You told me you want to though

 **CAS:** I won’t lie to you, Dean. You know I love you, so of course I want to make love to you. I’m always incredibly turned on by how much you seem to enjoy when my fingers are inside of you, and I want to make you feel even better. But I don’t NEED to. I won’t love you any less or be unsatisfied in any way if we never take that step.

 

Dean believes him. And it only makes him more sure.

 

 **DEAN:** I think I feel a little better.

 **CAS:** I’m glad :) Maybe one day you will be able to talk to me out loud :P

 **DEAN:**  I wouldn’t count on it lol

 **DEAN:** So we’re good to go?

 **CAS:** Meaning…?

 **DEAN:** I want you to. You know.

 **CAS:** I’m going to need explicit consent, out loud, for that to happen. But if you can do that, then I am on board, yes. If not, it doesn’t matter <3

 **DEAN:** I want to, Cas. I do. But I’m never going to be able to ask for it. I need you to ask me.

 **CAS:** I don’t want to make it feel like I’m pressuring you or expecting anything more from you than you’re wanting to give :(

 **DEAN:** You’re not. I know you never would. I promise I won’t feel like that. And I’d never say yes if I didn’t want to.

 **CAS:** Promise?

 **DEAN:** I promise.

 **CAS:** If that’s what you want, then I’ll ask you. The next time we have enough time to enjoy each other and neither of us has to run home afterwards.

 **DEAN:** If you light candles or buy rose petals I’m dumping your ass :P

 **CAS:** I guess I’ll have to cancel that order then…

 **DEAN:** You’re a loser. But thank you for letting me be emotionally handicapped or whatever.

 **CAS:** I think you’re doing just fine :) I’ll see you when you wake me up tonight.

 **DEAN:** Don’t drool on my pillow before I get there

 **CAS:** No promises ;)

Cas  _doesn’t_ ask though. It’s been weeks since they texted about it, and though Cas doesn’t stop using his fingers and sometimes fucks himself along his ass crack again, Cas doesn’t ask Dean if he can fuck him, and Dean still can’t find the words to ask him. He thought Cas might be trying to save it for Christmas or New Year’s Eve or something, but that’s come and gone, and though they were able to spend a lot of time together over the holidays since Cas’s office was closed between Christmas and New Year's, Cas never asked.

Dean’s kinda been stewing about it, and he feels almost rejected or something, which is stupid. Because Cas never said no, he just hasn’t asked like he said he would. He wishes he had the balls to ask Cas about it, but apparently he’s still a pussy when it comes to that.

He’s off tonight, so he’s walking around to the back of Cas’s place to let himself in to start dinner before Cas gets home when he’s distracted for the hundredth time over the pile of dead leaves in the yard. The yard isn’t big by any means but Cas never seems to have time to look after it. He says it doesn't bother him when it's unkempt, but it drives Dean crazy. So Dean mows the lawn in the summer, and now, apparently, he’s gonna be raking the leaves.

He finds a rake leaning up against the house with the tag still on it, and he shakes his head at his boyfriend. God only knows how long that’s been sitting here. Judging by the spider webs all over it, a while.

Dean lets his mind wander as he starts raking up the leaves. He’d raked leaves a lot as a kid, because there’s just something awesome about jumping in the pile and then raking them up again and again. Kind of like the non-summer version of building sand castles, he muses. Then he thinks about Sam and how many times he wrecked his little brother’s sand castles and laughed at him for crying about it. He always was a bit of a dick.

Dean curses a few minutes later when he feels blisters forming on his hands. This wouldn’t be so damn hard to do if the leaves weren’t half frozen to the ground. Raking leaves in the middle of January. Something he’d only do for Cas.

Just the thought of Cas sends that warmth blooming inside of him again, though. Cas had mentioned a few days ago that they met in January. Hard to believe it’s been a year. In some ways, it feels like Cas has always been a part of his life, but in others, it feels like it was just yesterday he finally admitted to himself how he felt about Cas and they shared that first kiss.

Now it’s been more than six months - no wait, seven months, now - and he’s happier than he’s ever been. He lets his mind wander over Cas’s smile. He feels his own lips curve into a smile when he pictures the gummy smile he gets when he makes Cas laugh really hard, or the few times he got the courage to say something chick-flicky and Cas got all adorably cute. He thinks about the way Cas kisses him to shut him up mid-sentence sometimes, and how it always makes him laugh. His smile spreads wider when he thinks about how everything in the world falls away the minute he climbs into bed and pulls Cas around him. How it doesn’t matter if it’s two in the morning after a long shift at work, if they fall asleep like that after spending the evening together, or if he just lets Cas hold him close in the morning when they wake up next to one another.

It’s this warm, fuzzy, fuckin’ perfect feeling. Like nothing else matters. Like coming home. Like everything he’s never wanted to admit he’s always wanted. The kinda thing his mom and dad had.

He almost drops the rake when he realizes he’s in love with him.

He loves Cas.

He’s in love with Castiel.

Son of a bitch.

His mind’s racing almost as fast as his heart. How long has he been feeling this inside of him? Cas has been making him feel all warm inside for months. Was that always love? Has he loved him all this time and was stupid enough to not even recognize what it was?

He hears himself laughing, and he knows it’s out of relief. He was scared. He was so fucking scared that he was going to lose Cas because he wasn’t falling for him, and he knows Cas has been waiting for the day he finally says the words. But he didn’t know! How the hell he didn’t know is beyond him, but he knows now, and for the first time he lets himself believe - if only for a minute - that this thing with him and Cas might actually work. He might not be as big of a fuck up as he thought he was. He might get to keep the person who’s made him happier than he’s ever been in his whole fucking life for good.

He can’t wait to tell him.

He finishes raking up the leaves with a big smile on his face, and as if he planned it, Cas comes to the back door with a big black garbage bag in his hands. “Need a hand?” Castiel asks him.

“Pretty convenient that you pop your head out here the minute I finished,” Dean teases him, but he can’t tone down his smile at all. He fucking loves Cas. Watching Cas as he walks over to him leaves him completely flabbergasted at how he didn’t know sooner.

“I would have been home twenty minutes ago, but I stopped to pick up dinner,” Castiel explains.

“Good thing I was distracted by the yard. I was gonna cook,” Dean tells him.

Cas narrows his eyes even as he loops his arms around Dean’s neck. “Who are you what did you do with my boyfriend?”

Dean feels his grin spread across his face even as he scoffs at his words. He cooks for Cas all the damn time. His hands land on Cas’s hips, though, and then the words tumble out, “I love you.”

Cas’s eyes go wide for a split second before his eyes start filling and his bottom lip trembles. Dean drops the rake and pulls him tight against his body, holding him as tight as he possibly can around his middle without hurting him. His mind is whirling quickly. He thought it would feel amazing to tell Cas that he loves him for the first time, but instead, he felt something ugly twist inside of him when he said those words out loud to Cas - to somebody other than family for the first time in his life - and for a split second he wishes he could take it back. Even though he knows it’s true, he  _does_ love Cas, it actually makes him feel kinda sick to say those words out loud and he doesn’t know why. Nerves maybe? He pushes the thoughts out of his mind and concentrates on Cas. Cas’s breath comes out in a choked off sob, and Dean strokes his hand down his back.

“I think I probably have for a long time,” Dean says, his voice low. “I just didn’t know what it was. You ever tell anybody I said this and I’ll kill you - but you’ve been making me feel all warm and fuzzy and shit for  _months_. I just didn’t know -“

Dean’s cut off by Cas’s lips, clumsily meeting his from the side before repositioning and kissing him properly. Dean lets Cas take what he needs, and it turns out to be a searing but somehow still tender kiss.

When they break apart, Castiel gasps, “I love you too,” and Dean sees that there’s still tears in his eyes. He feels his own eyes burning and blinks it away, annoyed. He’s not  _that_ big of a pussy, but shit, seeing Cas so fucking happy does something to him.

“You’re not gonna cry on me, are you?” Dean asks, but his voice is soft, so Cas knows he won’t really tease him if he does.

“I was close, but I believe I can keep it under control,” Castiel answers with a watery laugh, his voice sounding strange in a way he’s never heard it before. This must be what he sounds like when he cries. “I’m overwhelmed with happiness,” he admits. “I - I thought I could see it when you looked at me sometimes, but I wasn’t sure. I’ve wanted you to tell me for so long.”

“I - I love you,” Dean forces himself to say again. He has no idea why it’s so hard to say, but it feels like the words are getting stuck in his throat and he feels just as  _wrong_ saying them as he did the first time. “I wish I woulda figured it out sooner.”

“That’s not important now,” Castiel insists. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Don’t get used to it. You know I’m not a fan of talking about feelings, and this counts,” Dean lies. How else is he supposed to explain this?

Cas’s face falls slightly but then he smiles softly. “That’s alright,” Castiel answers quickly. “Now that I know that it does mean what I thought it did when you look at me like that, that’s enough.”

Dean sighs with relief. “Have I told you that you’re perfect for me?”

Castiel smiles again. “That sounds suspiciously like a compliment. Are you sure you’re my boyfriend?”

“Pffft, I tell you you’re hot all the time.”

“Yes, you do. Let’s clean up these leaves before our dinner gets cold.”

“What’d you get?” Dean asks as he bends over to pick up the rake again.

“A bucket of chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and biscuits,” Castiel answers.

Dean can practically feel his stomach grumbling. “Told you: perfect.”

Later that night, Dean and Cas are just getting into bed after brushing their teeth and slipping into pajamas. Dean climbs in first, and Cas curls himself around him as usual. But Cas’s lips start a trail down the side of his neck, and his hand brushes up to his bare chest. Dean smiles to himself. He loves it when Cas makes the first move.

“Dean?” Castiel says.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Do you remember what we texted about that time?” Castiel asks.

There’s only one thing he could be talking about right now. “Yeah,” Dean answers, voice already harsher.

“Do you still want to?” Castiel asks quietly.

Dean feels his heart start racing, and his cheeks turn a little pink, but Cas can’t see his face right now and he doesn’t even have to say  _yes_ out loud to answer him. So he does what he can: he nods.

Cas’s breath comes out in a shuddering exhale, and then he rolls Dean over onto his back. Cas gets on top of him and arranges himself so that his already hard cock -  _huh_ \- presses against Dean’s leg, and then he dives right back into kissing his way across Dean’s neck. Dean brings his hands up to roam across Cas’s strong back, clutching at him whenever Cas finds a sensitive spot. Cas kisses his way up Dean’s face and Dean turns his head to meet Cas’s lips eagerly.

Cas takes him apart with a kiss, the way only Cas has ever been able to do, and Dean’s as hard as Cas is in no time. They move against each other in a familiar rhythm, but Cas keeps kissing him soft and slow until Dean’s ready to beg him to move it along. Cas seems willing to kiss him for days, and while Dean isn’t complaining exactly, he wants more. “More, Cas,” Dean eventually has to ask him.

Cas smiles against his lips and starts moving down Dean’s body. He kisses his way across his clavicle and dips his tongue into the hollow of his throat. He leaves a trail of wet kisses behind as he mouths over to one of Dean’s nipples. He kisses it chastely, and then flicks his tongue across it until it buds so he can close his teeth around it. He pulls it slightly, making Dean jerk beneath him, and Dean buries his hands in his hair, holding him there so he knows to keep going. Dean swears there’s a direct connection between his nipples and his dick, and like always, Cas’s mouth on him only makes him harder.

When he hears himself starting to moan, he loosens his hold on Cas’s hair and Cas starts moving down his chest. Cas rubs his cheek across his belly once he gets there, which makes Dean smile, and then kisses a straight line over his navel to the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his pajamas. Dean thinks he’s about to get Cas’s mouth on his cock, but Cas moves sideways and nibbles on the jut of his hips.

Dean used to hate this needy feeling Cas always brings out of him because he felt so out of control, but he knows he’s going to take care of him now, so he goes with it. He writhes under his mouth, wanting more, only able to tell him with his body. Dean feels Cas latch on and looks down to see him sucking a mark into his hipbone. Cas likes marking him up, and to Dean’s surprise, he kinda likes it, too. Not that he’s ever told Cas that.

Cas dips his fingers into the elastic waistband of Dean’s pajamas and tugs, and Dean lifts his hips so Cas can get them all the way down. Dean’s erection falls heavy onto his stomach, and Cas shimmies out of his own pants before he lowers his mouth - finally - to Dean’s cock, only to press a single chaste kiss to the tip before he backs away completely.

“Lube, please,” Castiel asks. Dean grabs it from under the pillow and passes it to him with a huff of annoyance. “Turn over for me,” Castiel asks again, his voice softer this time.

Well, at least this way he won’t have to worry about trying not to look like he loves Cas’s fingers as much as he does. So he rolls over quickly. He’s listening for the click of the cap on the lube, but instead, he feels Cas’s lips on his ankle. He startles so much he almost kicks him in the head, which makes them both laugh, but then Cas slowly trails his lips up the back of one calf while his hand follows the same path of the other. Cas stops to lick and nip at the skin on the back of his knee, which feels strangely, intensely hot, and has Dean thrusting against the sheets beneath him and eliciting an amused chuckle from Cas. Dean doesn’t mind though. He knows he’s not laughing  _at_ him.

Then Cas’s lips keep moving up, across the soft hair on his legs, onto the backs of his thighs, and up over the curve of his ass. He palms his ass cheek in one hand as he nips at the other, sending sparks through Dean’s entire body. He brushes his thumb across the cleft of his ass, and Dean lets out a breathy exhale from that already. Cas presses kisses on his cheek, moving closer and closer to his center, and Dean starts panicking. He’s not going to…?

But he does.

Dean feels a single soft breath of air on the cleft of his ass before Cas places an open-mouthed kiss on his asscrack. Dean feels a jolt of desire run through his entire body just from one kiss, but he also feels like it’s wrong to want this.

“C-Cas,” Dean warns, voice small.

“I want to do this. I can make you feel so good, Dean,” Castiel promises. “But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

Dean’s heart is pounding so hard he doesn’t know if he could form words even if he wanted to.

"Need you to say yes, Dean," Castiel begs him.

Dean tries but can't say it out loud. He nods his head vigorously though, and Cas must take that as consent, because he spreads his cheeks gently - which kind of makes Dean want to die from embarrassment - and then Dean can feel another wet press of his lips there before his tongue licks a hot and wet circle against his hole. And yeah, that feels fucking  _awesome._ No use even trying to deny it.

“Okay?” Castiel asks.

“Fuck yes,” Dean gasps, the words spilling out of him easily now, and Cas huffs out a little bit of a laugh again.

“Up on your knees, then,” Castiel prompts, and Dean lets himself be manhandled into position so that his face is still on the bed and his ass is up in the air. He only has a second or two to think that this might be the most exposed position he’s ever been in in his entire life, and then Cas spreads his cheeks again and swirls his tongue around Dean’s rim again and he forgets about that completely.

“You are so gorgeous like this,” Castiel whispers, backing off enough to run his thumb over his pucker, and Dean feels his blush deepen. “I am so hard for you, Dean.”

“Don’t stop,” Dean begs him.

Dean loses himself entirely in the soft slide of Cas’s tongue. He’s reduced to nothing but tingling nerves and arousal pulsing through his veins. Cas circles his rim over and over, loosening him more and more with each soft press of his tongue. Dean can almost feel himself opening for him, and he calls out loudly when he feels Cas spear into him with his tongue for the first time. Then he pushes in further and further with each swipe, and Dean can hardly believe how impossibly good something so fucking dirty feels. He can’t possibly keep quiet. He’s moaning and begging and whining for  _more_ , and Cas is praising him and caressing him with his big, strong hands and Dean feels like he’s overflowing with want and need. Then he feels a single wet finger slide into him, and still Cas doesn’t stop licking at him. The wet heat of Cas’s tongue and the practiced press of his finger has Dean making the neediest, loudest sounds of pleasure he’s ever heard come from himself.

Then he hears the click of the lube opening, and he feels a second finger slide into him. Dean knows from experience just how fucking terrible lube tastes, so he knows Cas is done with his tongue for now. He pretends he doesn’t feel a stab of disappointment, and instead focuses on the way Cas stretches him open bit by bit. Soon, Cas has three fingers sliding in and out of him easily, and Dean’s fucking himself back onto them, moaning every time Cas brushes over his prostate. He has a stray thought that if they kept at this long enough he might actually be able to come like this alone, but he’s not willing to wait that long this time.

Castiel presses kisses into his spine, caresses his back and shoulders, whispers endearments and compliments, and basically hasn’t stopped doing things to make Dean feel like he’s a giant puddle of mush since he first put his mouth on him. Dean has never felt so much all at once.

“I’ve heard it’s easier to do this the first time on your stomach,” Castiel tells him, pulling his fingers out, then applying more lube to his cock, and wiping his hand off on his thigh. “But I was on my back my first time, and I was okay. How do you want to do it?”

Dean thinks about Cas’s perfectly blue eyes staring down at him and answers without thinking, “I need to see your face.” So he rolls onto his back again, and Cas spreads his legs and plants his feet on the mattress before he moves between them. When their eyes lock for the first time in who knows how long, Dean’s awed by how dark Cas’s are. Dean’s never seen him look this wrecked before, and Cas hasn’t even been touched yet. “You okay, baby?”

“I’m feeling uncharacteristically possessive at the moment,” Castiel replies. “Knowing this is your first time, that I’m the only one to ever be with you like this…” Castiel trails off, closing his eyes.

Dean gets it. For all intents and purposes, Cas is about to take his virginity. “It’s only ever gonna be you,” he says honestly.

Castiel’s eyes soften and his eyes are shining at him with love and appreciation. He didn’t mean what he said as a declaration of forever. It’s just the truth. He’s never wanted anybody else like this and he knows it’s only Cas. He’ll never want this with anybody else. So he lets him think he meant forever anyway.

“I love you,” Castiel says, and leans in to press their lips together. Dean recoils at first, thinking too much about where Cas’s tongue was last, but he doesn’t taste bad, so he gives in and lets Cas kiss him the way he wants him to anyway. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Castiel asks once he pulls away.

“I want you,” Dean replies, surprising even himself with his honesty.

“I hope I can last,” Castiel pants, and Dean smiles.

“You can just blow me after to make up for it if you can’t,” Dean tells him, echoing what Cas said to him a few months ago when it was his first time.

There’s laughter in Cas’s eyes when Dean feels the first nudge of his blunt cock head against his ass.

“If it hurts at all it will just be until I get inside, then it will be okay. Just tell me to stop or slow down if you need me to, okay?”

Dean trusts him. He nods. Castiel presses against him again, just rutting there, spreading the lube around and making Dean squirm.  _Fuck_ , he wants this so bad.

“Cas, please,” Dean begs, and Dean sees Cas’s eyes go impossibly darker before he feels his cock breach his hole. And, okay, yeah, he’s huge. _Feels_ fucking huge anyway, and there’s definitely an intense burning/stretching sensation. He squeezes his eyes closed and feels Cas press soft kisses to his eyelids.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Castiel whispers in quick succession. Then Dean feels Cas press into him harder and he slips past the tight ring of muscle and inside of him for the first time, and Dean feels himself relax. He did it. They’re doing it. Cas’s dick is in his ass and it’s… it’s okay.  _He’s_ okay. He doesn’t feel any different. Like any less of a man. His cock is still half hard, and he’s got his boyfriend’s cock inside of him. “Are you okay now?” Castiel asks, and Dean nods and opens his eyes again to see Cas clenching his jaw tight.

Dean nods. “You?”

“Gonna blow if you move,” Castiel admits. “You are impossibly tight, but god, you opened up for me perfectly. You’re absolutely perfect.”

 _I love you_ , Dean says in his head. But the words don’t come. “Can you kiss me?” he says instead.

Castiel lowers his mouth slowly, and Dean surges forwards to meet him halfway. He’s feeling so many things right now he doesn’t know what to do, other than kiss him. His hands sink into Cas’s hair, and he pours everything he can into this kiss. His love, his relief, his passion. It’s perfect.

Cas rocks gently into him, and Dean feels the sweet glide of Cas inside of him for the first time and he makes a sound against Cas’s lips.

“Does it still hurt?” Castiel checks.

“No. Feels so good,” Dean admits quietly.

“You’re so perfect,” Castiel repeats, and he keeps rocking slowly. Dean knows he’s letting him get used to the sensation, and their lips keep moving together like neither of them can get enough, and then Dean gives in to his instincts and rolls his hips down into Cas’s next upwards rock.

Cas’s breath catches, and he pulls out a bit and thrusts back in slowly. Dean’s hands tighten in Cas’s hair, and Cas thrusts in again. He starts a slow rhythm, and Dean moves with him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Has anything ever come so easy to him before? It feels  _so right_ being with Cas like this that he can’t remember why he ever was against the idea in the first place.

Cas’s hands come down to grip him under his thighs and he guides them up and around his waist, and when Cas sinks in again Dean cries out when he hits his prostate. He barely registers the way Cas’s hands slowly run over his legs because Cas nails it again and again, and Dean quickly turns into a writhing, whimpering mess underneath him, clutching at Cas’s body and encouraging him for more, more, more.

“You’re so beautiful, Dean. You look so good wrapped around me,” Castiel praises him, nuzzling into his temple and pressing a kiss there. “You’re doing so well.”

“I feel so good,” Dean admits. And he does. He feels amazing. Powerful even, which is crazy, because he’s not the one in the position of power here. And then he realizes it’s power from  _letting go_ , and he whines. “More, Cas.”

Castiel groans and pulls out only to thrust in harder this time. Dean feels desire shoot through his body like electricity. “Yeah, baby, like that,” Dean gasps.

“ _Castiel_ ,” Castiel corrects him, thrusting in again.

“So good, Cas,” Dean repeats for his benefit and Castiel moans his happiness.

“Touch yourself for me,” Castiel instructs him. Must mean he’s getting close. Dean finally takes his neglected cock into his hand and sighs at just how fucking hard he is and how good it feels to finally get a hand on himself. He strokes himself in time to Cas’s thrusts and his head falls back with unprecedented pleasure. Nothing has ever felt this good.

“Fuck me harder,” Dean asks, and Cas gasps as he slaps his hips into him. Dean feels his arousal increase even more as his testicles rub deliciously. “Feels so fucking good.”

“I’m close, Dean. I can’t hold on anymore,” Castiel warns him.

“Me too, baby. It’s so good. Nothing ever made me feel so good. Only you,” Dean babbles as he feels his balls draw up. “Look at me,” Dean asks. He wants to see him when he comes.

Their eyes meet, and then their lips, and Dean can  _feel_ Cas’s cock pulse inside of him seconds before his eyes slip closed and his hips stutter.

“Castiel,” Dean breathes, needing to see those blue eyes. Cas’s eyes snap open and his jaw drops as he starts emptying himself deep inside of Dean.

Cas angles his hips so his last few thrusts hit his prostate again, and combined with the first warm spurt of liquid inside of Dean and his hand working his cock furiously, Dean feels himself go off like a rocket. He comes so hard he feels it hit his chin, and then Cas’s mouth is  _there_ licking it up and Dean shouts as he comes and comes between them, his entire body quaking with more pleasure than he’s ever felt before.

He feels like this moment changes everything.  _This_ is who he is. He’s a straight man who fell in love with his gay best friend, who likes taking it up the ass so much he just came harder than he ever has in his entire life. And he’s okay with it. He’s so much more than okay with it he can hardly believe it. He’s so fucking happy, so relieved, so  _thrilled_ that he knows he needs to share it with Cas. With the man who gave him this.

“I love you,” he gasps, pushing past how it feels to say it and focusing instead on how amazing Cas is making him feel. He pulls Castiel’s head down to his so they’re pressed forehead to forehead and he can see directly into those bright blue eyes he loves so much. “I love you so fucking much, Castiel.  _Cas_. I love you.”

Then Castiel’s lips are moving against his, pressing almost painfully hard, and then he hears, “I love you, too, Dean. With everything I have.”

Cas’s voice is rough, and when he opens his eyes again to check on him he notices his vision is blurry, and then he feels the hot slide of his own tears down his cheeks.

He’s fucking crying.

He hears a sob choke its way out of his throat and he covers his face with his hands. This is fucking embarrassing.

“Dean, stop,” Castiel presses him. He feels Cas’s hands push his out of the way, and he lets him but refuses to open his eyes. Then he feels Cas’s thumbs brushing away his tears, and then his lips kissing the wet tracks down his face. “It’s okay,” Castiel reassures him.

But Cas being sweet like this isn’t helping at all. His heart is so full it feels like it’s going to burst, and he knows without a doubt in his mind that this is the best moment of his life. And with a clarity he didn’t think he’d ever possess, he’s absolutely certain that Cas is it for him. Forever.

Fresh tears spill, and the second Cas’s softening cock slips out of his hole, Dean rolls him over and pillows his face on his chest, his shoulders shaking with the sobs he’s trying to hold inside.

“Dean? Did I hurt you?” Castiel asks, his voice filled with concern and panic.

Dean shakes his head quickly and strokes his hand down Castiel's arm when he hears a sigh of relief.

"Are you alright?" Castiel tries again.

Dean nods with his head still on Castiel's chest. How can he ever explain this, anyway? Cas strokes one hand down his back while the other runs through his short hair. He presses kisses onto the top of his head and makes shushing sounds, and at some point he starts rocking them, and slowly, Dean comes back to himself. The tears dry, and his breathing evens out… but he doesn’t stop clinging to Cas. He doesn’t want to.

“This is probably a stupid question, but do you want to talk about it?” Castiel whispers.

Dean closes his eyes. Because he doesn’t  _want_  to. He’d rather do almost anything  _but_ explain this to Cas, but he also knows if he doesn’t Cas is going to worry and stress and blame himself for doing something wrong.

“It was perfect,” Dean rasps. His throat is thick from his tears, and he clears it. “I guess right until it was happening I was still worried that it’d make me feel… different, you know? But it didn’t. It was awesome. I felt like me. Like it was okay to want this from you, and it didn’t change anything except make me more sure that this is who I am. That I’m… 100% me when I’m with you. Because of you. Guess it was a little overwhelming.”

“Those were happy tears?” Castiel asks, surprised.

“Happy. Relieved. Enlightening. Really awesome sex tears,” Dean answers.

“Really awesome sex for me, too,” Castiel comments, and Dean can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m so glad you were okay with it. Tonight’s the first time I’ve had sex in  _years_.”

“We’re gonna do it again, right? As soon as I can walk,” Dean adds, and Cas laughs.

“I never told you this before because I didn't want to pressure you, but my preference is actually to top,” Castiel confesses. “You have no idea how badly I missed it.”

“But you - you said you’d be happy with it if I never wanted to,” Dean remembers.

“I would’ve been. You’re much more important to me than sex,” Castiel says simply.

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. “Don’t deserve you,” he says quietly.

“You know I hate it when you say that,” Castiel chides him.

“True though. You’re too good for me,” Dean insists.

“That’s nonsense. You’re the best man I know,” Castiel reminds him.

“You’re just delirious from awesome sex,” Dean accuses him.

Castiel chuckles and presses another kiss to his head. “You feel better now?”

“I feel like I need to sleep for about a week,” Dean realizes. “And kinda like I need to use the bathroom,” he confesses, and Cas laughs again.

“Very normal,” he reassures him. “I’ll go clean up quickly and then the bathroom’s all yours.”

A little while later, Dean lays in Cas’s bed, in Cas’s arms, and he knows with unwavering certainty that he’ll never want to be anywhere else again. He’s in love for the first time in his life, and it’s  _everything_.


	7. Chapter 7

“What do you guys have planned for next week?” Sam asks, lounging comfortably on Castiel’s recliner.

“What’s next week?” Dean asks.

Sam shares a look with Castiel, and Castiel just rolls his eyes at his boyfriend.

“Valentine’s Day, you loser,” Sam answers.

“Ohhhh,” Dean answers, obviously just realizing this. He looks at Cas. “We don’t need to do anything different than any other day, do we?”

Castiel swallows his disappointment. He knows that Dean isn’t the romantic kind of guy, but he also distinctly remembers telling him several times on Valentine’s Day last year that he’s never had anybody to spend it with before. A part of him had hoped they might be able to do _something_.

“You’re working that night anyway,” Castiel responds.

“You guys can still do something to celebrate another night. It’s your first Valentine’s Day as a couple, right? And it’s the first time Dean’s not planning on going out to pick up,” Sam adds.

“Didn’t go out last year,” Dean reminds him.

“I wouldn’t mind celebrating another night,” Castiel offers.

“Really?” Dean asks, sounding surprised. “Didn’t think you were the kinda guy I had to sweep off his feet.”

Castiel feels his blush rise. All Dean has to do is look at him to sweep him off his feet, and he knows that.

“Everybody likes to be made to feel special every now and then,” Sam comments.

“Cas ain’t like that,” Dean argues.

Castiel  _is_ actually, but since Dean very obviously isn’t, he just never mentions it.

“Do you have something nice planned for you and Jess?” Castiel asks instead of commenting on what Dean just said.

“We have reservations at Churchill’s. Had to call two months ago to get one. Plus, I’ll get her flowers, and I bought her a new necklace,” Sam divulges.  

Castiel smiles warmly. Sam’s a very good man, and Jess deserves everything he gives her. “That’s very sweet, Sam. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard it's the nicest restaurant in town. I'm sure Jess will appreciate everything very much.”

“Just make sure the box is big enough so that she doesn't think you’re popping the question,” Dean grins.

Sam rolls his eyes. “We’ve already talked about that. She knows I’m not going to propose until I’ve got a steady job. We have other things to spend our money on right now.”

“Hey man, better you than me,” Dean laughs, sending Castiel a look that conveys he doesn’t envy his brother in the least. Which is fine. He and Dean haven’t even been together a year yet. Thinking or talking about marriage would be ridiculous.

“You know, if you break up with him now you could probably find another date by Valentine’s Day. One that might actually take you somewhere,” Sam teases Castiel. “I couldn’t even blame you.”

Castiel laughs at Sam’s suggestion. Sure, Dean might not be the perfect boyfriend, but Castiel would never break up with him. “I think I’ll keep him around for now,” Castiel answers easily.

Dean grins at Sam. “He loves me.”

“You have no idea how much you lucked out,” Sam tells him, not for the first time.

Castiel smiles at the compliment and turns to share his happiness with Dean, but Dean just shrugs a shoulder and turns back to the TV. That’s fine. He doesn’t need Dean to compliment him.

Later, after Sam’s left, Dean and Castiel are washing and drying dishes and Castiel brings up Valentine’s Day again.

“I know we were mostly kidding around while talking about Valentine’s Day with Sam, but I really wouldn’t mind celebrating in some way. I have never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before,” Castiel admits.

Dean hangs his head. “Come on, baby. You know that stuff ain’t exactly my kinda thing.”

“I’m not asking for a candlelit dinner and a horse-drawn carriage,” Castiel points out. “I would be happy with a nice home cooked meal and a bottle of wine.”

“We just had a home cooked meal. Happy early Valentine’s Day,” Dean deadpans.

“Deeean,” Castiel whines.

Dean sighs heavily. “Fine. I’ll pick up a couple of nice steaks and grill ‘em for us, okay? I’ll even buy vegetables. You get the wine. But no candles.”

Castiel smiles softly. It’s as good as he’s going to get. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Dean.”

“We can do it the Wednesday before, yeah? Then I’m off and I can stay here with you.”

“That works for me. And um, I know you won’t like this, but I already bought you something,” Castiel says quietly.

“Ugh, Cas! You know I hate when you buy me shit!”

“It’s Valentine’s Day! I want to show you that I love you,” Castiel explains.

“That’s nice of you, obviously. But for future reference, a blow job works just as well as any gift you coulda bought,” Dean teases.

“Oral sex isn’t an expression of love,” Castiel disagrees.

“I dunno about that Cas, I  _really_ love it when my dick is in your mouth,” Dean grins.

Castiel rolls his eyes at him. “You can be such a dick sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you love me,” Dean reminds him.  

“I do, yes,” Castiel answers automatically.

“So, uh, if you bought me something, that probably means I need to buy you something, too, right?”

“It’s not required, of course, but it would be appreciated if you decide to,” Castiel answers carefully.

Dean huffs. “Yeah, even I can read between the lines real easily there.”

Castiel leans over and kisses his cheek. “Thank you.”

And so it’s February 12th when Castiel comes home to Dean’s car parked in the driveway as per usual on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. He had a slow day at work today, but he has a smile on his face knowing he’s about to spend the night in with Dean.

He walks through the front door and sees Dean in the kitchen prepping the steaks. He can smell potatoes as well, and he drops his keys and wallet on the small table on his way by.

“Hello, Dean,” he smiles. He indulges himself by wrapping his arms around Dean from behind, and his smile grows when Dean stops what he’s doing and leans back against him.

“Hey, babe. How was work?”

Cas nuzzles into his neck and leaves a soft kiss there before he backs away. “Same as every other day, with several interruptions from spouses calling to ask about flower deliveries for Friday,” he replies.

Dean seems to freeze. “Was I supposed to do that?”

“Send me flowers?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah. Shit. I dunno. Does a dude do that for another dude? I never even thought about it.”

“I didn’t think that you would,” Castiel responds. “But for the record, I do like flowers.”

“I’ll try to remember that for next year,” Dean says with a wink, and something glows inside of Castiel the way it always does when Dean makes references to the two of them being together in the future.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dean,” Castiel tells him, smiling broadly.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Cas,” Dean repeats with a small eye roll. Castiel ignores it.

“Can I help with anything?”

“Nah, I got this. Why don’t you open the wine you picked out?” Dean suggests.

“Sounds great to me. I’m just going to change out of my work clothes first.”

He does that and then, wearing a thin pair of sleep pants and a black t-shirt, he goes back downstairs and opens the wine like Dean suggested.

He sees him scooping out the insides of a potato and beams. “Twice baked potatoes are my favorite!”

“I know,” Dean grins at him.

Castiel takes a minute to remind himself that although Dean isn’t big on romantic gestures, he knows him well enough to make him his favorite side dish on Valentine’s Day without any prompting. Sometimes it’s the little things that make a big impression, and the thought warms him.

They eat dinner together and drink their wine, and Castiel is feeling light and happy with the combination of good conversation and alcohol. They decide to leave the dishes for tomorrow, and Castiel goes to get his gift for Dean.

It’s wrapped in plain red paper (Castiel knows Dean wouldn’t appreciate anything with hearts on it) and decorated only with Dean’s name in his most careful handwriting. He hands it to him and kisses him quickly.

Dean smiles shyly and carefully opens the gift, the way he always does, lifting the tape up from each fold without any ripping. He pulls the paper away and gets an eyeful of the gift Castiel chose for him.

It’s a journal, bound in black leather, embossed with Dean’s initials on the cover, and wrapped in a thin black cord.

Dean’s expression is hard to read. “You bought me a journal?”

Castiel nods, feeling nervous. “We both know how much you don’t like to talk about your feelings. But I thought it might be helpful to write them down from time to time instead of keeping them bottled up inside,” Castiel explains. Dean’s facial expression doesn’t change much. Maybe this wasn’t a good gift idea after all. “If all else fails, you can just use it to write down your grocery list or something,” he offers, feeling silly.

Dean looks up and his lips curve into a small smile. “I never woulda thought of something like this for myself. I don’t know if I’ll use it, but I’ll uh, think about it. Might be good to get some crap off my chest,” he admits. “Thanks, Cas.”

“You’re welcome,” Castiel replies.

“My gift’s lame in comparison,” Dean complains, running his hands through his hair. Castiel knows that means he feels nervous, and it’s endearing. He gets up and goes to pull a small gift bag out from under his leather jacket. He hands it over to Castiel like he’s been sentenced to jail time, and Castiel can hardly hide his amusement.

The first thing he pulls out is a small heart shaped box of chocolates. It’s so cliched and such a meaningless gift that Castiel can’t help but laugh a little. “I do like chocolate,” he manages to say.

“Shut up! I told you it was lame.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel promises. “You know I’ll eat them.”

He’s preparing himself for the worst when he pulls out the only other remaining item in the bag. Which is good, because it’s a teddy bear. Not even a nice teddy bear. A small little bear that’s barely any bigger than his hand. The brown bear is holding a plush heart that says,  _Happy Valentine’s Day_. He does his best to hide his disappointment and school his face into a genuine smile before he looks back up at Dean.

“This is cute,” he says kindly.  _If I was fifteen._ “Thank you.”

“I, uh, didn’t know what to get. And there were a million different bears so I figured people liked them even though I don’t get it and just went for it. It’s dumb isn’t it? Fuck, I’m stupid. I hate gifts,” Dean says all in a rush.

“It’s fine,” Castiel lies. “I’ll put it on my nightstand,” he offers.

“I feel like a dick. You got me a thoughtful gift and I just grabbed something off of the shelf,” Dean says. “I didn’t know what to get,” he repeats.

“It’s not a big deal. You told me you weren’t into the gift giving thing and I bought you something anyway. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know what to get me.”

“You’re pissed though,” Dean observes.

“I’m not,” he promises, reaching out to take his hand. Hurt might be more accurate, but that isn’t important. “I appreciate you getting me anything at all.” Which is true. “For the future though, maybe it would help you if I told you what kinds of things really mean a lot to me?”

Dean nods. “Yeah. Clearly I could use all the help I can get.”

“Please stop berating yourself over this,” Castiel implores him. “I am more interested in gifts that come from the heart. Something meaningful or sentimental. It wouldn’t even matter if it didn’t cost you a penny, I’d appreciate it because it shows me that you were thinking about me,” Castiel explains. He leaves out  _that you love me_ because Dean doesn’t really say that to him very often.

Dean nods. “Can’t promise I’m gonna be any better at that than buying shit, but I hear you,” Dean assures him.

“Okay,” Castiel answers.

There’s a small silence and then Dean bursts out with, “Okay. I got one other thing for you but I didn’t wanna give it to you because it’s cheesy as fuck. But I’m gettin’ the sense I need to do some sucking up, here.” Dean says it all with his hand on the back of his neck. “But you can’t tell anybody, and you can’t tease me for it.”

Castiel silently thinks the thing Dean shouldn’t want him to tell people about is the teddy bear, but he nods all the same.

Dean holds up a finger and then runs out to his car. He comes back a minute later with something in his hands, and as Dean approaches him, Castiel can see it’s a picture frame. Dean hands it to him, his cheeks a rather alarming shade of red, and Castiel feels his heart swell for him. He takes it, and he looks down at a simple, silver frame, with a photo of the two of them in it. Castiel recognizes the picture from Christmas Day. They’re both dressed in button-down shirts and slacks for dinner at Ellen’s, and they have no idea the picture is being taken. Dean’s sitting on Castiel’s lap to try and save seats, and he’s obviously telling Castiel something funny, because he’s looking down at Castiel, gesturing with his hand, a smile on his face and laughter in his eyes. Castiel is looking up at Dean with a smile so big it’s exposing his gums above his teeth, his nose is scrunched up and he can almost literally  _see_ the love shining in his eyes.

“Where did you get this?” Castiel asks, surprised by the photo.

“Jess was apparently taking pictures all night,” Dean answers.

“Why this one?”

“The look in your eyes,” Dean answers quickly. “And your smile. I have to work damn hard for that smile from you, you know, and I coulda kissed Jess when I saw she got it on camera.” Castiel’s sure he’s smiling in that way right now. It’s not exactly a compliment, but it’s the closest that Dean really gets. Dean’s face is still adorably pink when he continues, “The last time I was at your office I noticed that a bunch of your coworkers had pictures up of their family and stuff, and you didn’t have anything at your desk. So… you know.”

“It’s perfect, Dean. I would  _love_ to have this at my desk. Thank you.”

Dean lets out a big exhale. “Man, I’ve been stressed about this all week. I hate buying gifts.”

“You did perfectly,” Castiel reassures him.

“The chocolates and bear were fucking lame,” Dean reminds him.

Castiel chuckles again. “They were, but they’re very  _you_.”

“Thanks a lot,” Dean says sarcastically.

“On the positive side, I appreciate what you bought me for Christmas even more now,” Castiel teases.

“You  _needed_ a new frying pan! I still don’t get how that’s a bad gift!” Dean exclaims, and Castiel laughs at the familiar banter. “You know what? Fuck you. Next year I’m buying you boxers and socks and a bottle of lube, and that’s all you get.”

Castiel laughs again, but leans in to kiss him. “I love you,” he tells him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean replies, which is what he usually says. “You want some more wine?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Castiel teases him.

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” Dean grins.

“You know you already automatically get sex tonight, right?” Castiel tells him.

Dean lights up as if they didn’t have sex two days ago. “No shit?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Castiel reminds him.

“Maybe I like this day after all,” Dean realizes.

* * *

 

 

**March:**

 

 **DEAN:** Is my Zepp tee at your place? Tore the whole fucking room apart looking for it.

 **CAS:** Just one second and I’ll check :)

 **CAS:** Yes, I see it hanging in my closet. Want me to bring it over to the bar after work?

 **DEAN:** That explains why I couldn’t freaking find it. Don’t worry about it. Feel like I need two of damn near everything.

 

* * *

**April:**

 

“Cas, come on, you’re gonna m-make me crash the fucking car,” Dean hisses. “ _Fuck_!”

“Tell me to stop,” Castiel asks him, undoing Dean’s fly and reaching inside, knowing that Dean would never ask him to stop.

“We’re literally two minutes away,” Dean gasps as Castiel lets his fingers wrap around Dean's thick girth.

“Didn’t sound like a no to me,” Castiel comments in a sing-song tone of voice as he strokes Dean’s cock loosely in his fist. “You’re so hard for me.”

“You’ve been sucking on my neck like a fucking vampire for the last five minutes and rubbing at me through my jeans  _after_ telling me that you’re wearing a fucking plug out in public,” Dean reminds him. “What do you expect?”

Castiel laughs, because that was pretty evil of him. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean breathes.

“In here. In the car. In your pride and joy,” Castiel offers. “You’re never going to drive in here again without thinking about coming inside of me.”

“You keep talkin’ like that and it’s gonna be that embarrassing time I blew my load  _before_  I could fuck my boyfriend in my car,” Dean warns him.

Castiel takes him at his word and releases his cock to work on getting his own pants off. He pops the button and pulls down the fly before he lifts his hips, cursing as the plug moves inside of him, and then pulls his pants and boxers completely off.

“Uhmm,” Dean chokes out from beside him.

Castiel looks over and sees Dean biting down on his bottom lip. Dean's really worked up, and Castiel loves having this kind of power over him.

“Almost there, almost there,” Dean chants to himself as he turns onto the street he lives on.

Castiel digs through the pocket of his discarded jeans and pulls out a single-use packet of lube with a sound of triumph.

“You really did think of everything,” Dean comments.

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me in this car since the first time I saw you in it,” Castiel confesses. “You drive the same way you fuck, you know. With that cocky confidence of yours. Very manly. Looking sexier than any person has a right to when they’re not even trying.”

“That why we barely make it out of here half the time?” Dean asks.

“Mmmhmm,” Castiel agrees. “But we’re not making it out of here at all this time.”

“Two days, Cas,” Dean groans. “It’s barely been 36 hours and I already want you so fucking bad it actually hurts.”

Dean finally pulls into the parking lot, and Castiel pulls him across the seat the second he has his seat belt off. He pulls down the waistband of Dean’s boxers until his cock is bobbing out and then straddles him. It’s a tighter fit in the front seat than he thought it would be, but he doesn’t care. This is going to work.

He crashes their lips together as he positions himself on top of Dean. He lets his cock nudge the plug and they both groan at the sensation.

“Lube, Cas,” Dean begs.

Castiel sits back on Dean’s knees and tears the package open with his teeth before he squirts it onto Dean’s erection. Dean wraps his hand around himself and then pulls Castiel flush against his body again. Dean reaches around him and pulls the plug out carefully, but Castiel still groans at the feeling of being  _open_ again after having something inside of him for the last few hours.

“You sore?” Dean asks, and Castiel kisses him again for being sweet enough to ask when they both want this so bad.

“A little, but I’m okay,” he promises.

Dean shimmies down a little bit in the seat to get into a better position for Castiel, and then Castiel grips Dean’s cock and hovers over him.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna fuck in a parking lot,” Dean grins. “Make it quick so we don’t get arrested.”

Castiel smirks in a very Dean-like way and then lowers himself onto Dean’s waiting cock slowly. He could have used some more prep, and he tries not to show any pain on his face because he knows Dean will stop and he doesn’t want to. He distracts him by kissing him as hard and as dirty as he can, dominating Dean’s mouth and using his teeth the way he knows Dean likes while he waits for his ass to adjust to the thick length inside of him.

“Always so fucking tight,” Dean gasps against his lips.

“Missed you,” Castiel replies. He hardly ever bottoms, and while he’s happy that way, he always forgets how great it is until he’s doing it.

Dean’s hands slide to his hips and he urges Castiel to start moving. “Need you. Need you so bad, baby.”

Castiel rocks on top of him, still needing a little bit more time to adjust, and Dean groans and leans forwards to roam his lips over the collar of Castiel’s shirt and onto his neck. Castiel has yet to get used to how hot Dean’s mouth is on him, and he doubts he ever will. Passion sparks through him every time he feels Dean’s lips, and he isn’t shy about communicating that with needy sounds in his throat.

“So hot. You’re so hot Cas. Fucking me in my Baby.  _Fuck_ ,” Dean gasps.

Castiel is feeling loose enough to move, so he tentatively lifts his hips and slides back down slowly to test the feeling, and a happy breath shudders out of him. He’s ready.

He braces his hands on the seat behind Dean’s head and lifts up before slamming his hips back down.

“G-God,” Dean stutters, encouraging Castiel to do it again, and again. He does it over and over until his thighs are burning so badly he has to stop. He throws his head back and swivels his hips, gyrating on top of Dean in the most seductive way that he can, knowing how much Dean loves it when he moves like this. “Mmmm, Cas. So fucking sexy, baby. You feel so good.”

In this position, Castiel isn’t able to hit his prostate very well, but the experience is enough. They’re in a parking lot where they could be found any second, in Dean’s super hot muscle car that smells like leather and motor oil and  _Dean_ , and when Castiel opens his eyes to see the way Dean is looking up at him - slack jawed, eyelids heavy with desire, and like he’s every sexual fantasy he’s ever had - he’s closer to his orgasm already than he has any right to be.

“Dean, please,” Castiel asks him.

Dean takes Castiel’s flushed cock into his hand and swipes his thumb across the head before he starts jacking him expertly in time with the swivel of his hips. He can hear himself and Dean both breathing hard, his knees squeaking on the leather of the bench seat, and the sound of Dean’s hand stroking his cock fast and hard. The windows are fogging up, and he has sweat beading at his hairline.

“Cas,” Dean chokes out. “I’m  _really_ fucking into this,” he explains.

“Me too,” Castiel promises. “I’m close.”

Dean’s breath hitches and Castiel looks down at him to see his eyes closed tight, obviously trying to hold off his orgasm. “Don’t hold back. Come for me, Dean. Fill me up,” Castiel goads him.

Dean bites down on his lower lip, and Castiel rises up to impale himself onto him again and again until Dean is calling out in a garbled groan and releases Castiel's cock so that he can hold Castiel down by his hips. Castiel feels Dean’s fingers tighten almost painfully hard on his hips and then the first spurt of hot cum inside of him, and he leans down to kiss Dean through his orgasm.

Once his fingers loosen, Castiel gets up on his knees and pulls Dean’s mouth towards his cock. Dean shimmies down further in the seat, banging his knees against the console, but he opens his mouth for Castiel to push inside of it. Dean’s cock slips from his ass and Castiel can feel his warm come running down the inside of his legs.

The first thrust into Dean’s mouth has Castiel moaning loudly. This is perfect. He thrusts a few times and can already feel himself getting dangerously close to coming, and then he feels Dean run his fingers through the come on Castiel’s leg before he shoves them inside of Castiel, crooking them perfectly to hit his prostate. And  _yes_ that’s  _exactly_ what he needed to push him over the edge, because he’s spilling hot and hard into Dean’s willing mouth. Dean wraps his lips around him and sucks hard, seemingly eager for his release, and swallows down every drop, lapping at the tip of his cock until Castiel has to pull away.

He slumps forward awkwardly, his dick still pretty much right in Dean’s face, but he needs a second to compose himself.

“I’m fucking covered in cum,” Dean complains a minute later.

“You and me both,” Castiel tells him.

“How the fuck are we gonna get up to my apartment?”

Castiel sits up to reach for the paper towels in the glove compartment. “Better than nothing,” he offers. Dean takes some off of the roll and cleans between Castiel’s legs quickly, wiping up as much as he can before he tries to get what’s dripped onto his thighs and flaccid dick.

“Next time we use a condom,” Dean says wisely.

Castiel chuckles at  _next time_ and they maneuver themselves back into their clothes, bumping and elbowing each other and the roof of the car often and making them both laugh and swear. Castiel climbs out of the car first, on shaky legs, and he turns back when he hears a sound of disgust come from Dean.

“You got fuckin’ jizz all over my seat!” Dean complains in a whisper. Castiel is pretty sure he can hear him apologize to the car under his breath and tries not to laugh at him.

“It’ll come off,” Castiel tells him.

“ _You’re_ cleaning it,” Dean says as he gets out of the passenger seat. He wraps an arm around Castiel’s waist as they walk to the entrance of his building.

Castiel raises his brows. “Don’t you think I did enough tonight?”

“That ain’t wrong,” Dean agrees easily. Way easier than he usually would. Castiel smirks to himself. He must have really blown his mind. “I guess you can do it in the morning.”

Castiel turns to smack him but Dean’s already racing away, laughing like a maniac, and Castiel’s too sore to chase him. But he smiles to himself anyway because they both know he’s not going to be the one cleaning up the mess. 

* * *

**May:**  

 

“You will never guess what happened to me at work today,” Castiel says when Dean finally has a second to go over to talk to him.

Dean had to work Wednesday night since one of his co-workers got in a fender bender, and he was already scheduled to work nights Thursday and Friday, so Dean’s pretty thankful that Cas came by to spend some of his Friday with him at work. He  _hates_ working nights during the week when he can’t see Cas, but he owns a bar, and obviously it’s busiest at night, so that’s where he needs to be.

“You met Scarlett Johansson and had a nooner?” Dean asks, laughing at his own joke.

“Well crap, I didn’t think you’d get it on the first guess,” Castiel replies flatly.

Dean crosses his arms, and tries to pretend that he doesn’t feel Cas’s answer like a shot straight through his heart. “I dunno if I should kill you or be really fuckin’ proud that my boyfriend fucked somebody that hot.”

“I’d definitely kill  _you_ ,” Castiel replies easily. Warmth floods back inside of him. He’d never touch somebody else when he’s with Cas. Not even Scarlett Johansson.

“Yeah, but you’re jealous as fuck,” Dean reminds him.

“You would be too if I flirted with anything that walked,” Castiel says bitterly.

Cas’s version of “flirting” is Dean’s version of being friendly. They’ve been over this so many times Dean doesn’t even give his response a second thought. “Too bad you’re too hung up on me to flirt with other people, huh?” Dean winks. Cas doesn’t react, and he waits a second for him to say something, but he just has a weird look on his face. “So are you gonna tell me what actually happened?” Dean prompts him.

“Oh, right,” Castiel says, coming back to earth. “Over the summer my boss saw an obituary for one of our clients in the newspaper. We closed her file and marked her as deceased. And today she walked up the stairs to pay her overdue bill.”

Dean laughs softly. “Guess she didn’t croak after all?”

“Apparently not! The shock on my face was probably a lot like my boss’s when I went to go tell him who had just paid. So now I get to tell people a dead client came into our office.”

“You can get some good mileage with a story like that,” Dean comments.

Castiel smiles at him. “I thought so,” he agrees. Somehow their hands slide across the bar towards each other without Dean meaning to, but he goes ahead and places his hand on top of Cas’s, making him smile softly. That’s worth the awkwardness of holding his boyfriend’s hand at work right there. Out of the corner of his eye he catches sight of Jo glaring at them from the other side of the bar. Apparently, Cas does, too.

Castiel lowers his voice and says, “Don’t look now, but your  _little sister_ with the giant crush on you is scowling at us for displaying affection in public.”

Dean rolls his eyes at both the idea that Jo is jealous and at the way Cas said  _little sister_ like that isn’t what she is to him. “It’s probably because I’m slacking instead of working,” Dean tells him.

“There’s three customers in here right now, and none of them other than me are at the bar. I think you’re allowed to talk to me. I  _am_ a paying customer,” Castiel reminds him.

Half of Dean thinks he’s right. Half of him thinks he should be working. So he deflects with an attempt at humor. “One of these days I’m gonna convince you to pay me with blow jobs,” Dean says with a smirk.

“I doubt that very much,” Castiel says quickly. “Besides, how many more orgasms could we realistically fit into our lives?”

“See, now that’s the kinda question I’m willing to put real time and effort into finding the answer to,” Dean grins, and he leans in across the bar without meaning to. He notices when Cas’s eyes drop to his lips and he’s almost  _desperate_ to kiss him, but he doesn’t. He’s not ashamed of Cas or their relationship at all, but he isn’t really into the idea of making out with his boyfriend while he’s working, either. He wouldn’t let any of his other employees do it.

“Three days is too long to go without your help in that department,” Dean complains quietly. One look at Cas is all it takes to know he’s feeling the exact same way. He still can’t believe the pull he feels towards Cas all the damn time.

“Stay at my place tonight, and I’ll give you one hell of a wake up call in the morning,” Castiel promises, his voice low.

Dean barely suppresses a whimper. “I was gonna come over anyway. I keep waking up lookin’ for you when we don’t sleep together now,” Dean complains again.

Castiel’s eyes are soft when he replies, “I miss you when you’re not in my bed, too.”

Dean huffs gently, embarrassed that Cas could see right through the grumpy facade and know exactly what he meant.

He turns his head suddenly and sees Jo still watching them. She startles but glares back at him. This is awkward. He pulls his hand away from Cas’s. “Need something?” Dean asks her.

“If there’s time to lean there’s time to clean,” she says to him with a small smile on her face, echoing the words he’s been saying to her every day since she started working for him.

Dean laughs. “Yeah. Good thing I’m the boss and I don’t have to listen to me like you do.”

“I’m gonna remember this the next time somebody I’m sleeping with wants to hang around all night,” Jo tells him.

Cas bristles at the comment, but Dean just brushes it off. “Good idea. I haven’t given the big brother speech in a while. I have a new and improved version I’ve been waitin’ to try out.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel says to him under his breath.

Dean turns back to him. “What?”

Cas raises his eyebrows, silently asking him a question Dean isn’t picking up on. “Never mind,” he says heavily. “I guess I’m going to take off. I don’t want you to waste any more time with somebody you’re  _sleeping with_. See you in the morning.”

Dean’s not dumb. He knows something just happened that pissed Cas off but he doesn’t know what it is. Dean squeezes his hand and tries to give him a soft expression, showing him that he’s sorry without saying the words. “Okay, baby. I’ll try not to make too much noise when I get home, but no promises.”

“Don’t work too hard,” Castiel says in response. Then he turns to Jo and says, “Have a good night.”

“We will,” she answers in a sickly-sweet tone of voice.

Dean sees Cas’s shoulders stiffen slightly as he walks out and shoots Jo a glare.

“What?” she says defiantly once the door closes behind Cas.

“You know exactly what, Joanna Beth,” Dean grumbles.

“He thinks he owns you,” Jo responds.

Dean actually laughs at that. “No, he doesn’t. Stop being such a jerk. And by the way, he’s  _my boyfriend_ not just ‘somebody I’m sleeping with’, so don’t talk about him like that, blondie.”

Jo rolls her eyes at him. “Next thing I know you’re gonna be asking me to borrow a tampon.”

“Judging by the ‘tude I’d say you’ve probably got one in use right about now,” Dean grumbles under his breath.

“What did you just say to me, Winchester?” Jo growls at him.

“Nothing!” Dean answers quickly, smirking at her. She says something back under  _her_ breath but Dean ignores her. He looks up at the clock. Six more hours until he can climb into bed with his boyfriend. Six more hours. 


	8. Chapter 8

**June:**

 

Castiel can hardly believe that this time a year ago, he was convinced he’d spend every moment with Dean wishing for something he could never have. He doesn’t even know if Dean is aware that the one year anniversary of the day they kissed for the first time is descending upon them, but he isn’t going to let it slip away like it isn’t significant. Because to him at least, it is.

He brings it up on the morning of the first day of June when he and Dean are coming down from their orgasms after an extremely enjoyable frottage session. Castiel is pressed up against Dean’s back with his arm is draped around his waist.

“Hey, Dean?” he asks quietly.

“Hmm?” Dean answers.

“I don’t know if you realize it or not, but June is when we started dating,” Castiel starts simply.

“Hmm, yeah, I kinda remember something about that. Vaguely. In a non-important, not at all significant kinda way,” Dean teases him, and Castiel can almost feel the worry drain away. “You thought I wouldn’t remember the day my whole life changed?” Dean asks.

“I wasn’t sure,” Castiel admits.

“Gotta have more faith in me than that, baby,” Dean tells him. “The 5th falls on a Thursday, so I switched my shifts already, and I got a plan. So don’t give it another thought, okay?”

Castiel feels like his heart is about to fly out of his chest. Dean not only remembers the exact date, but has something planned for them. “No gifts, right?” Castiel suggests, and Dean laughs the way he wanted him to.

“No gifts,” he confirms. “I’m not fucking anything up this time.”

“I love you,” Castiel breathes.

“Me, too, Cas,” Dean answers, and Castiel’s smile falls from his face. Those three words are quickly becoming his least favorite in the English language  

 

 

It’s only a few days later when it’s officially their anniversary. Castiel got a text from Dean telling him he’d be by to pick him up at 6:00 and to make sure he “looked hot”. After enquiring what that meant, exactly, Castiel remains in the light turquoise checkered shirt he had on for work, changes into his most flattering dark pair of jeans, and slips into his loafers. He should be dressed appropriately now for almost anywhere in town.

He applies cologne, which he almost never wears, and messes up his hair more than it already is, knowing how much Dean loves it this way, and then he considers himself ready to go.

He has butterflies in his stomach while he waits for Dean to come to the door to pick him up like an actual date - something they’ve never done - and they only start fluttering around more wildly when he hears the sound of the Impala pull into his driveway. He only has a moment to think about how the rumble of that engine is easily his favorite sound before he hears the honking of the horn.

Castiel’s shoulders slump for a second with disappointment (how hard would it have been to come knock on the door like they’re going on a real date?) before he remembers that Dean has something planned for them, and then he chuckles to himself about Dean having absolutely no manners whatsoever.

He walks out to the car and lets himself inside. The familiar smell of leather mixed with Dean’s natural scent has him warm all over in seconds.

“You smell good enough to eat,” Dean says in lieu of a greeting.

Castiel smiles almost shyly. “Hello, Dean.”

“You hungry?” Dean asks, and Castiel nods. “Good.”

They talk about their days comfortably, and then Castiel can barely wipe the smile off his face when they pull into the very full parking lot of the nicest restaurant in town. In the entire year he and Dean have been together they have never, not even once, gone to a nice restaurant together, and certainly nothing of this caliber.

“Really?” Castiel gasps at Dean.

“You deserve somethin’ nice for once,” Dean says. Castiel feels his eyes water at the incredibly sweet statement from Dean.

They hold hands as they walk inside, and Castiel is already thinking he’s the luckiest man in the world when Dean holds the door open for him. He  _blushes_ and keeps the small smile on his face when Dean places his hand on his lower back, leading him to the hostess.

“Good evening, and welcome to Churchill’s,” the hostess greets them.

“Uh, thanks,” Dean says, and he clears his throat in a way that tells Castiel just how nervous he is to be here. “Table for two, please,” he says with more confidence, shooting the waitress one of his most charming smiles.

She smiles back at him and replies, “What name is the reservation under?”

Dean’s smile falters just a tad and he says, “Didn’t make one. It’s a Thursday,” he shrugs. “No big deal, right?”

“I’m sorry sir, but we don’t take walk-ins,” she says.

Dean shares a skeptical glance with Castiel and the hostess and says, “You’re joking, right?”

She shakes her head and Castiel feels his stomach drop. Of course he doesn’t get to have this. He closes his eyes briefly and tries to tell himself not to be disappointed. He didn’t know this place only takes reservations, either.

“Okay, listen,” Dean tries, softening his voice and leaning a little closer. “It’s our first anniversary tonight and I’m tryin’ to make a big gesture here. Look - there’s a table right there with nobody sittin’ at it. Can you just do me a solid and help me out this one time? Pretty please?”

She looks down at the book in front of her with the reservations listed and then looks sad when she looks back up. “The best I can do is get you a table at 8:30,” she relents.

“It’s okay,” Castiel reassures him instantly, but even he can hear how flat his voice is. “We can just go somewhere else.”

Dean’s jaw is clenched and Castiel thinks sadly that it’s an accurate visible representation of how his stomach feels, too. Tight with tension in the worst way. Dean takes his hand and they walk out of the restaurant without another word to the hostess.

They’re barely out of the door before Dean has him in his arms. “Fuck, Cas. I’m such a screw up,” he berates himself. Castiel thinks to himself that he’d feel a hell of a lot better if Dean would just apologize instead of blaming himself. But Dean  _never_ apologizes.

Castiel holds him back just as tight anyway, knowing Dean needs the reassurance right now. “You’re not. I didn’t know they only take reservations either.”

“I shoulda called and made one to make sure we could get in. It was a stupid chance to take and now I feel like an ass,” Dean admits.

“Don’t,” Castiel tells him, though he does agree that calling ahead would have solved this problem. “It’s okay. We don’t have to eat here. It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m really fucking tired of hearing you say that,” Dean spits. Castiel stiffens at Dean’s tone. He doesn’t usually talk to him like that. “It  _is_ a big deal, Cas. I fucked up. I know you wanted something nice. That you have for a while but I still never do it. Then I finally manned up and you were lit up like a kid on Christmas morning when we pulled in here. And now  _this_.”

It’s true. Castiel was excited when they pulled in here, but he isn’t about to let that ruin their evening. He pulls away so that he can look at Dean’s face when he talks to him. “It’s not the place, Dean. It was just the novelty of you wanting to do something nice for me.” Dean can’t hide his wince, and Castiel keeps talking to try to cover up his slip. “We can go anywhere. Knowing that you  _wanted_ to make this night special helps. A lot.”

“I always  _want to_ , Cas, I just... can’t,” Dean tries to explain.

Castiel nods, because he knows that. Or at least that’s what he tries to tell himself. Hearing Dean say that he wants to helps, and he makes a mental note to try to remember this the next time he’s beginning to feel under appreciated.

Castiel takes a shallow breath and pastes the most convincing smile he can on his face. “I love you,” he says, which is true. “More than anything. And the last year with you has been the best year of my entire life. I don’t care if we eat here or eat at McDonald’s, I just want to spend the night with you.”

Dean’s eyes are shining at him with emotion and Castiel can  _see_ that he loves him even if he doesn’t like to say it. “Me, too,” Dean says, his voice soft. Dean leans in to brush his lips against Castiel’s gently, and Castiel lets his eyes slide shut to better absorb the love he feels coming from Dean. He needs this. He needs a few seconds to remind himself of how lucky he is to have a man like Dean to share his life with and shake off the negative feelings from tonight’s turn of events so he can get his head back on straight and enjoy the rest of their evening.

They pull away from each other when somebody approaches the door, but they maintain eye contact. “Now what?” Dean asks Castiel.

“Would you be upset if we just ordered a pizza and went back home? I just want to be close to you,” Castiel confesses. The only thing that’s going to make him feel any better right now is Dean, and having a table between them doesn’t sound appealing at all anymore.

“Pizza and lots of cuddling coming right up,” Dean promises. “And Cas? I’m gonna make this up to you, baby. I swear.”

“I still don’t think it’s your fault, but I will never say no to a nice meal out,” Castiel smiles.

“Next week,” Dean promises.

When they get in the car again their hands find each other the way they almost always do, and though it’s a little bit harder to order them a pizza on the app only using one hand, he does it anyway without complaining.

They both change into sweatpants when they get back to Castiel’s place, and true to his word, Dean pulls Castiel in close when they sit on the couch watching TV while they wait for their pizza to arrive. The longer they sit, the more he’s able to relax, and pretty soon it doesn’t even feel like pizza and sweatpants is a let down anymore. It’s not special, but it’s another night at home with the man he loves.

When the delivery man shows up, Castiel hates him a little bit for making Dean get up. Castiel had offered to pay for the pizza but the scathing look he got from Dean was one for the books, and he had given in quicker than he ever has before.

Dean tells Castiel that he can choose a movie to watch, and even reluctantly adds that he can even choose a chick flick if he wants to.

Castiel chooses  _Varsity Blues_ , which earns him a confused look from Dean. He shrugs sheepishly. “James Van Der Beek is hot in this movie,” Castiel offers, smiling.

“I’ve actually never seen it,” Dean replies. “But I’m watching you, mister. No getting handsy with me if you’re looking at another dude.”

“Remember that when you see the whipped cream bikini,” Castiel warns him.

“On a dude? No thanks,” Dean answers quickly.

“It’s actually the head cheerleader,” Castiel explains. “It’s how she seduces him.”

Dean makes a face of contemplation. “Woulda worked on me in high school, too.”

Castiel laughs lightly. “And now?”

“Never gonna look away from a nice set of tits. But I’m more into dick these days,” Dean responds, and Castiel kisses him on the cheek.

”If I remember correctly, it’s dick in  _you_ that you’re more into,” Castiel reminds him.

“Hey, I’m not picky. Either is fine,” Dean grins.

“Just for the record, I can guarantee you that I would find you more attractive than even James Van Der Beek if you were wearing the same little football pants and were all sweaty and dirty like him,” Castiel promises.

Dean chuckles. “Really? Football pants do it for you?”

Castiel nods, unashamed. “Definitely.”

“You’re cute,” Dean says, pressing a kiss onto his temple. Castiel beams at the compliment, and he’s filled with love for Dean while they snuggle together on the couch and watch the movie.

Later that night, after they’ve brushed their teeth and climbed into bed together, Dean pulls Castiel into his arms and kisses him softly. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Happy anniversary, Dean,” Castiel responds, glowing with happiness.

“I know it wasn’t everything you wanted…” Dean begins.

“I’m happy,” Castiel says honestly. “I enjoyed spending the night with you, and I’m going to enjoy it even more when you let me make love to you nice and slow,” Castiel says, leaning in to kiss Dean again.

“Yeah? I fuck up and still get fucked?” Dean asks in surprise.

“Mmmhmm, I’m the best boyfriend in the world,” Castiel teases him.

“You don’t gotta tell me,” Dean answers, which makes Castiel smile wider. Dean very, very rarely says anything like that.

They’re already down to just their pajama bottoms, so it doesn’t take long before they’re naked and Castiel is three fingers deep inside of his boyfriend, though they managed to slow it down tonight, which is uncommon. Dean’s been particularly loving, caressing him with gentle hands and soft brushes of kisses in places he has never kissed before, like the bottom of his feet and the inside of his elbows. Sometimes Dean grins at him like he thinks he’s funny, and sometimes there’s so much love in his eyes that Castiel can hardly keep eye contact.

Right now, Dean is grinding back on Castiel’s fingers inside of him, and Castiel knows he’s as desperate for the main event as he is. Sure enough, Dean starts asking for it moments later.

“C’mon, Cas, I’m ready,” Dean says.

Castiel pulls his fingers out and slicks up his cock, then wipes his hand on the towel they started keeping by the bed for this exact reason. Dean is on his stomach, but Castiel wants it to be more intimate than that this time, so he rolls Dean until he’s on his side, and Castiel slots himself behind him into a spooning position. Dean loves being entered from behind, Castiel loves how easy it is for him to hit Dean’s prostate this way, and there’s the added bonus of being able to hold Dean close and still kiss each other while they make love this way.

He slides one arm beneath Dean’s neck and the other around his waist, pulling him close to his body as he lines himself up and slides home, latching onto Dean’s exposed neck to stave off most of his moan.

“Cas,” Dean breathes, turning his face towards Cas, searching for his lips.

Castiel indulges him - of course he indulges him - and he kisses him slow and deep, running one hand up and down his chest and stomach, needing to touch Dean in every way that he can. The other hand holds his face towards him so that Dean can’t break their kiss. Castiel  _needs_ this connection with him tonight.

Dean isn’t able to move much like this, but the tiny sway of his hips is enough to let Castiel know he’s ready for more. Castiel pulls out to thrust into him again in an easy slide, and Dean spreads his legs wider, wanting him deeper. Castiel slides his hand from his chest down to his leg, and pulls it back, holding him open with his hand on the bend of Dean’s beautiful bow leg. He knows he hits his prostate by the high-pitched sound that spills from Dean’s mouth, finally breaking their kiss, and he thrusts inside of him again and again.

Dean’s arm comes up and he buries his hand in Castiel’s hair, and Castiel kisses along Dean’s jaw as Castiel holds him in position. “Cas, baby. Love you,” Dean whispers.

Castiel moans. Dean hardly ever says he loves him, and a declaration of love during sex is almost unheard of.

“Dean,” Castiel sighs happily. “I love  _you_.”

“So much, Cas. Feel it all the time,” Dean whispers.

“My love,” Castiel lets out. “My heart. My everything.”

Dean kisses him again, and there’s a different kind of desperation to their touches and the way they move together now. Like they’re both trying to prove their love to one another. Castiel can’t think of another time it’s been  _like this_ between them and his heart, his mind, his senses and his soul are so full of Dean and pleasure there isn’t room for a single other thought.

His hand runs up Dean’s leg and onto his hip, allowing Dean’s leg to fall. Castiel angles his hips so that Dean’s more on his front, and his entire body is pressed against his muscular back as he thrusts inside of him as deep as he can get. His hand can’t stay still and caresses his chest, his stomach, and then holds onto his hip for purchase before beginning the same trail back up to his chest. He just needs to touch him everywhere that he can. He lavishes kisses on Dean’s neck, listening to every sound of pleasure he punches out of Dean, loving every time his breath catches in the middle of his name. Castiel repeats his love for him over and over, feeling a thrill of excitement each time Dean returns his words with a simple, “Love  _you_ ,” tucking every single one of them into his memory for the next time Dean doesn’t say it when he needs to hear it.

Dean’s arm reaches behind him and keeps his hand gripping Castiel’s hair, his fingers cording through it as he repeats his name over and over. His eyes are squeezed closed and Castiel can see him falling apart with every thrust. His cock is rubbing against the mattress beneath him, and he hopes Dean’s as close to the finish line as he is.

Dean’s hands tighten in his hair and the sweet mix of pleasure and pain drives Castiel closer to the edge still. “Dean,” he warns. “I’m gonna come.”

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean groans. “Need you. Always need you. Always.”

“I love you,” Castiel says again. “I will always love you,” he declares for the first time.

“Always,” Dean echoes quietly, turning to meet his lips in a searing kiss.

And just like that, Castiel’s body and heart can’t possibly take anything else, and he comes deep inside of Dean with a broken moan that Dean swallows hungrily.

Castiel brushes his hand down Dean’s stomach to his cock and grips him tight. He’s barely even touched him before Dean’s body stiffens and their lips part as Dean’s mouth drops open. Dean’s hand holds the back of Castiel’s head in place, and Castiel kisses him over and over along his jaw as Dean comes in thick ribbons of white that splash all over his stomach and chest. Dean’s hand finally loosens its hold on Castiel’s head, and when Dean throws his head back in ecstasy Castiel strokes him through his orgasm as he kisses him under his chin and down the column of his throat.

When Dean’s breathing starts slowing down, Castiel reaches behind him for the towel and wipes down Dean’s stomach and chest, then slips out of Dean and cleans between his legs and wipes his own softening cock off as well. They both wiggle back into their pajamas again, and Dean takes a few minutes to visit the bathroom. Then Dean’s on his back beside Castiel again, and Castiel curls himself around him, resting his head on his chest.

Dean’s big hand strokes up and down Castiel’s back, and Castiel closes his eyes, safe and comfortable in Dean’s arms with the scent of Dean and sex surrounding him.

Castiel has just about fallen asleep when Dean turns towards him so that they’re almost nose to nose. He looks Dean in the eyes, and smiles at the soft look of affection there.

“Happy anniversary,” Dean tells him again. “Can’t believe you put up with me for a whole year. I know I suck at the whole feelings thing, and it took me forever to figure my shit out, but… you know I love you, right?”

Castiel closes the scant distance between them to press their lips together quickly. “I do know. I… I forget sometimes, and I will admit it would be really nice to hear more than once a month, but deep down, I always know.”

“I wish I knew why it was so hard for me, ya know, to say it. But it just is. I swear I’ll try harder, kay?” Dean promises, cupping the side of his face with his palm.

“I would like that,” Castiel smiles.

Castiel can see something brewing in Dean’s eyes, and he waits for him to get the words out. “Bein’ with me…us together… what we have. Is it what you wanted? Do I, uh, make you happy?”

Castiel’s heart beats erratically.  _Of course_ he’s happy with Dean. He’s happier with him than he’s ever been before. But... a small part of him remembers all those times he’s wanted Dean to say something sweet and he didn’t. Or the times when he waited for Dean to defend what they have together and he didn’t. Or when he hoped for something romantic and didn’t get it. But then there are moments like these. Yes, they’re few and far between, but when Dean lets himself, the love he shows Castiel  _is_ absolutely everything he’s ever wanted. Feeling like this more than twice a year might make Castiel a lot happier, but he  _is_ happy. And right now, it’s almost impossible to remember the feeling of disappointment he constantly has to shove down when Dean doesn’t say he loves him back.

So with the almost euphoric feeling of a rare romantic moment almost tangible between them, he pushes everything else away, smiles and nods his head. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I am so stupidly in love with you, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it anymore.”

Dean smiles in response and brushes his thumb across Castiel’s cheekbone. “Thank you for… for loving me and putting up with my shit. And uh, I’m not goin’ anywhere, okay, baby?”

Castiel nods. Dean kisses him once more, then rolls over to flick off the lamp on his side of the bed. Castiel does the same on his side, and then curls up around Dean, the way they both prefer to sleep.

He kisses between his shoulder blades and tells him one more time. “Goodnight, Dean. I love you.”

“‘Night, Cas. Me, too.”

Castiel remembers the sound of Dean telling him he loved him just a few minutes ago, and swallows the disappointment of not hearing it again right now.

He’s happy, he reminds himself.

* * *

 

**July:**

 

“I can’t  _believe_ you’re still eating,” Jo says, coming up behind Dean while he works on polishing off his second piece of pie.

Dean gives her a dirty look over his shoulder. “Shut up,” he replies, mouth still full of pie.

She gives him a look of disgust in return. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re stupid,” he answers, and tiny flakes of pie go flying from his mouth with the pronunciation of the  _s_ sound.

“Say it don’t spray it,” she chimes.

And it’s something he’s heard her say so many times throughout the last thirty years he can’t help but grin at her, and as usual, she grins back, and then the two of them start laughing.

They’re interrupted by, “Are you seriously eating my pie right now?”

Dean freezes and presses his lips into a straight line before he turns towards his brother.

“Oh! This was  _your_ pie?” he asks with as much sincerity as he can muster.

“You’re such an asshole,” Sam says, shaking his head at him. Guess he didn’t buy it. Oh well.

“I baked this pie, thank you very much,” Dean reminds him. “And made the burgers, and supplied the house and grill!”

“ _Cas_ supplied the house and grill,” Sam disagrees.

“And would y’all be here if I hadn’t locked that down? No! So I get credit.”

“What are you taking credit for this time?” Castiel asks, crossing the small lawn towards them with two beers in his hands and taking his spot in the empty chair beside him.

“Your house and your grill,” Sam answers him.

Castiel shrugs, handing one of the bottles to Dean. “He deserves that credit. He’s the one who made the house livable, does the maintenance around here, and even mows the lawn. It’s his house as much as it is mine.”

Dean beams up at Sam. “Ha!”

“You still can’t eat Sam’s pie though,” Castiel says, and takes the plate with the remaining crust on it and hands it back to Sam.

“But the crust is the best part!” Dean complains, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

“How did you even hear that part of the conversation from across the yard?” Sam asks, taking a big bite of the crust while grinning evilly at Dean.

“Superhuman hearing, obviously,” Castiel answers with a lopsided grin.

“Am I the only one who noticed that Dean’s apparently the one who does all the work around here?” Jo asks suddenly.

“What are you talking about?” Dean replies.

“If you do the yard, and fixed up the house, and you made the burgers  _and_ grilled them, what does your oh-so-special boytoy do?” Jo says. She says it with a fake smile on her face that Dean knows gets Cas’s back up, and sure enough, his response is pretty much exactly what he expected.

“I lay in bed wearing lingerie and a big fat plug so he can fuck me when he’s all hot and sweaty after the grueling housework,” Castiel answers.

An image of Cas in lingerie flashes through his head, and he loses himself for a second before he realizes Sam is now choking on his pie crust and Jo is slapping him hard on the back while glaring at Cas.

Jo  _really_ doesn’t like Cas.

Sam seems to come back to himself and gives Cas a disapproving look. “I am never going to get used to you saying shit like that.”

“I think he’s hilarious,” Dean defends him. “He’s all quiet and serious most of the time and then he comes out with something like that and I realize what a fantastic influence I’ve been on him in the last year.”

“Still not too late to run, Cas,” Sam tells him, like he tells him almost every time they spend time together.

“Still too sore from this morning to do much running,” Castiel answers, and Dean bursts out laughing when Sam gives him that sour look again. Apparently that’s all Jo can take because she rolls her eyes before she walks away.

“Do you have to do that to her?” Dean asks Cas.

“She started it,” Castiel whines.

“Oh yeah, I’ve definitely been an influence on you,” Dean laughs, but leans in to kiss him anyway. Then he looks back up at Sam. “We didn’t even have sex this morning -“

“Not  _that_ kind anyway,” Castiel says so that only Dean can hear.

“- so just erase the bitchface, Sammy,” he finishes.

There’s a glint in Sam’s eye Dean  _really_ doesn’t like, and he’s already looking around for an exit strategy when Sam starts talking. “You know, I noticed that Cas said his house is just as much yours as it is his. Have you guys talked about moving in together at all?”

Dean grins. Because this he can handle. “Not really. My lease renews January first so we don’t have to think about that for a while. Besides, we basically live together anyway. I’ve got just as much shit here as I do at home.”

Castiel nods. “I’m happy with the way things are. Sorry we didn’t give you the drama you were looking for,” he smiles at Sam.

“Well we could always talk about marriage, or children, or you know, which one of you is going to pop the question…” Sam says completely seriously.

“Get off my lawn,” Castiel growls, and Dean and Sam both burst out laughing again.

“Sam!” Jess calls from across the yard where she just finished a game of lawn darts. “You’re up!”

“This isn’t over!” Sam threatens as he walks over to join Jess.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Dean tells Cas.

Castiel beams the way he always does whenever Dean compliments him, and answers, “I know Sam was just trying to get a rise out of you, so I deflected the best way I could. When you’re ready to discuss those other things we definitely won't be doing it in front of your brother.”

Dean tries to imagine himself having a discussion about marriage or children and has to fight back a wave of nausea. He loves Cas with everything he has, and sure… lately he’s been thinking about how he wants to be with him forever, but there’s still no way he’s gonna bring it up and talk about it. No siree.

Thankfully, Charlie comes over, having just lost her game of lawn darts to Jess, and the conversation is avoided for the time being. Cas and Dean are holding hands on the arm of his chair, sipping their beer, when Dean glances around at what’s left of his makeshift family and feels a sense of  _home_ that he hasn’t felt since his parents died. Charlie, her new girlfriend Gilda, Jo, Ellen, Sam, Jess, and now Cas are his family, and he feels pretty damn lucky to be in such good company.

As evening turns into night, the happy feeling inside of Dean never wanes. Jo and Ellen take care of the dishes even after Dean and Castiel try to intervene, and though Dean is never without his beer, he doesn’t get stupidly drunk like he has on the last couple (okay, ten…) July 4th parties. Which is why he’s currently arguing with Jess about the fireworks.

“Me and Sam have been doing this for years!” he says, not for the first time.

“And two years ago you burned Sam’s hand because you weren’t paying attention,” Jess replies. Also not for the first time.

“And  _now_ I’m not drunk and I’m not gonna fuck it up!”

“And neither am I,” Jess answers. “So back off, Winchester.”

“This is my house!” Dean argues.

“It’s  _Cas’s_ house unless you have another big announcement to share with me, and I’d like to see him come over here and tell me to back off,” she laughs.

Dean turns around to find Cas determinedly  _not_ looking at him for once. Dean scowls at the fucker anyway.

“He’s obviously the smart one,” Sam says, laughing.

Dean gives him the finger and turns back to Jess. “Let me light the freakin’ fireworks.”

“No,” she says simply.

Dean shakes his head. “This is stupid, I’m just gonna take them from you,” he decides. He reaches out to grab them from her hand and she dodges him. He glares at her. “Don’t be a bitch.”

Her jaw drops and her temper flares in her eyes. “You  _did not_ just call me a bitch.”

“Uhhh, I didn’t mean to. I take it back,” he says quickly.

“How about… I get to light the fireworks. And in exchange, I don’t go over there and tell Charlie and Jo and Ellen what you just said to me,” Jess says, her voice as sweet as honey despite the heat in her eyes. He’s so screwed.

“Fine,” he pouts, and turns around to stomp over to Cas.

Castiel takes one look at the expression on his face and Dean sees the little shit’s lips twitch before he fakes a sympathetic look and pulls him in for a quick kiss before Dean steps around him and wraps his arms around him from behind.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you laughing at me, jerk,” Dean says, biting down hard on his neck and making Castiel yelp, and then kissing him gently right behind his ear. Castiel leans back against him, and Dean readjusts his stance so he can take some of his weight. Cas smells like the shampoo they share, mixed with a tinge of sweat from the heat of the day, and beer. Pretty fuckin’ perfect. Dean couldn’t  _not_ smile if he tried. He’s so fucking happy.

He sees a spark of the first firework being lit and says, “Here we go.”

Seconds later it shoots into the sky and explodes in a shower of sparks. Everybody in the yard lets out sounds of appreciation, and he even hears Charlie let out a loud whoop of excitement. There’s a few minutes where nothing happens, and then there’s another explosion in the sky, and then another, and another. Castiel leans his head back against Dean’s shoulder, and Dean forgets to look up at the sky when he sees the colors of the fireworks shine on Castiel’s face. He’s always thought he was gorgeous, but seeing his face lit up like this has him feeling like he’s going to drown in all that warmth inside of him.

This is one of those moments. One of the hundreds of times he wants to tell Castiel how much he loves him. How he’s absolutely everything to him and he doesn’t want to live another day without him in his arms just like this for the rest of his life. How he never thought he’d ever get to have this, and every day he still has it he wonders what he ever did to deserve it. But as usual, his hands start sweating and his heart starts racing and his throat closes up when he tries to think about how to say it. He just needs to spit it out.

“Cas?” Dean whispers.

“Yeah?” Castiel answers.

But nothing comes. He can’t say it. Again. And he hates himself for it. Again.

Castiel turns towards him, probably wondering why he isn’t saying anything, and Dean does the only thing he can think of doing. He kisses him. It’s a little sloppy since they’re at the wrong angle, but Dean tries to pour every ounce of love he has for him into it anyway. Castiel lifts his hand to cup the back of Dean’s neck, holding him in place, and Dean makes a happy little sound into his mouth. He loves him  _so much_.

Another explosion breaks them apart, but of course Castiel says, “I love you, Dean.”

It’s a double-edged sword when he says it now. Because Dean craves those three little words almost as much as he craves Cas’s touch, but it sucks every time he can’t say it back. “I know, baby. Me, too. So much,” he says instead. And Castiel smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and Dean pretends he can’t see it. Like he doesn’t know what a disappointment he is every time he can’t.

When he turns back to the fireworks he still has everything he’s ever wanted in this yard, but he doesn’t feel quite as happy about it as he did a few minutes ago.

 

* * *

 

**August:**

Castiel pushes the shopping cart through the grocery store and pulls out his cell phone to check his list again.

“Now we just need chicken breast, ground turkey, roast beef, and pepperoni,” he lists off as he reaches the meat.

“Ugh, ground turkey,” Dean grumbles.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “You didn’t even know I switched it until I told you,” he reminds him.

“No, I did. I knew it tasted funky I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to be a dick,” Dean argues.

“Which apparently you have no problem with right now,” Castiel says dryly.

“C’mon man, I need meat!” Dean pouts.

“Turkey  _is_ meat,” Castiel points out. Dean gives Castiel the most pathetic looking sad face he can manage, which, of course, works. Castiel sighs and grabs ground beef as well. “How about we mix it together and see if that’s better?”

Dean grins. “I’ll give it a shot. What’re you making with it anyway?”

“Tacos, and spaghetti and meat sauce,” Castiel answers. Dean makes a face of disgust. “What?” Castiel asks.

“I’m fuckin’ sick of spaghetti,” Dean complains.

This is a familiar complaint of Dean’s when it comes to meals, and Castiel tries not to lose his patience. “Okay. Do you have another suggestion?”

Dean shrugs. “I dunno.”

That’s also familiar, and it never fails to irritate him. Dean complains about what he buys to make but has no ideas for something different. It doesn’t help that he refuses to eat almost anything with vegetables, including salad.

“Lasagna?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah, that’s better than spaghetti at least,” Dean agrees.

“I’ll have some leftovers for lunch as well,” Castiel comments. “Don’t let me forget the noodles.”

“I’ll go get ‘em right now, ‘cause we both know we’re gonna forget.”

“Thank you,” he smiles, and goes back to picking out the rest of the meat.

By the time he’s done, Dean still isn’t back, so he makes his way towards where the pasta is located and hears Dean’s laugh as he approaches the aisle. He must have run in to somebody they know.

But when he rounds the corner, he sees it isn’t somebody he knows at all.

There’s a beautiful woman with long, dark hair, resting her hand on Dean’s chest as she shakes with laughter. Her hair falls into her face and she flips it over her shoulder like a model for a hair commercial, and Dean’s smiling a soft little smile Castiel hardly ever sees on his face. Who is this woman?

The closer he gets to them, the more he notices just how beautiful the woman is. Her smile is stunning, and she’s poured her athletic body into a fitted pair of yoga pants. Her toned midriff is exposed beneath her opened hoodie, and it looks like she’s only wearing a sports bra as a top, leaving  _very_ little about her body to the imagination. Her cheeks are a little pink and it looks like she just came from the gym, but somehow she’s still flawless. Dean is focused on her so completely that he doesn’t even notice Castiel coming, and when he reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind the woman’s ear in such an easy gesture Castiel feels his blood run cold.

He steers the cart until it’s stopped right beside Dean, and finally, he turns towards him. The soft smile on his face falls away almost as fast as the woman’s hand, and is replaced with what Castiel knows is Dean’s mask when he’s trying to hide his real feelings.

“Oh, hey! I got the noodles,” he explains, holding them up, “but then I ran into Lisa and got distracted.”

Lisa. Doesn’t ring a bell at all. “I see that,” Castiel says with an attempt at a friendly smile at Lisa.

“So we good to go?” Dean asks. Castiel nods. He notices the way Lisa is looking at the ground instead of at either of them and wonders who she is and why she doesn’t want to look at him or at Dean now when she had no problem touching him a minute ago. “Cool. I’ll see you around, Lis.” Castiel bristles at the nickname. “Seriously, come by the Roadhouse some time and the first drink’s on me, okay?”

_That sounds a little too familiar_ , Castiel thinks bitterly.

“That sounds great, Dean. I’ll do that. It was  _really_ nice to see you again,” Lisa replies. Then she gets up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around Dean’s neck for a quick hug. He sees Dean’s hands on the curve of her lower back, and Castiel hates the way his hands look on her more than he’s ever hated anything in his entire life.

Then she backs away, tucks her stupidly long hair behind her ear again, and walks away with a sway to her hips that has to be intentional.

Castiel hates her intensely.

“You ready?” Dean asks Castiel.

“I was waiting for you,” Castiel answers.

“Let’s go then,” Dean says, ushering him towards a checkout.

He stews about what he should and shouldn’t ask. He wants to know who she is, but a part of him already knows she and Dean had been intimate at some point. That was fairly obvious. Dean doesn’t touch people easily, but he did with her. He also wants to ask why Dean didn’t introduce them, and if she knows they’re together. But even though he feels jealous, he doesn’t want to overreact about this and  _act_ jealous. So he’s quiet during checkout, and on the ride home, and it isn’t until they’re back at his place putting the groceries away that he finally decides to ask.

“How do you know Lisa, anyway? You’ve never mentioned her to me before,” Castiel comments like the question just occurred to him.

Dean snorts. “Sure I have. She was my high school girlfriend. I must’ve mentioned her a couple of times.”

“That was your ex girlfriend?” Castiel repeats.

“Yeah. Haven’t seen her in about ten years. Didn’t know she moved back here ‘til today,” Dean says easily.

Castiel stops what he’s doing. “Let me get this straight. You are grocery shopping with your boyfriend and run into your ex girlfriend. Your boyfriend finds you with your ex girlfriend’s hand on your chest, and sees you play with her hair, and it doesn’t occur to you that it might be a good idea to introduce us?”

Dean stops what he’s doing, too, and he looks over at Castiel, his face blank. “I wasn’t playing with her hair,” he answers carefully.

“You moved it away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. I saw you do it.”

“It wasn’t like that. Just an old habit,” Dean explains.

Castiel just glares at him.

“I don’t get why you’re making a thing about it. I yank on Jo’s ponytail. Hell, I play with  _your_ hair all the time,” Dean continues.

Which is exactly the wrong thing to say. Castiel feels like he’s just been punched in the stomach.

“You do. And I was stupid enough to think that was something intimate between us, but apparently even  _that_ would be too much to expect from you,” he responds, and he  _hates_ the way his voice is cold and hard but he can’t control it. “I guess it would be optimistic of me to assume you didn’t introduce me because you had already told her about us?”

“I didn’t mean to not introduce you,” Dean says, his voice soft. “I fucked up.” Castiel waits for Dean to answer the second part of his question, which he does, with his hand on the back of his neck. Castiel knows the answer before he says it. “And no, I didn’t tell her about us.”

Castiel huffs out a breath of air, not at all surprised but annoyed all the same. He begins putting groceries away again.

“Come on, Cas! What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, hey. I haven’t seen you in ten years but I’m kinda gay for my best friend now, just FYI.’ Gimme a break. Do you know how awkward that would’ve been?”

Castiel takes a deep breath to try and calm his temper. “I suppose, ‘This is my boyfriend, Castiel,’ would have been too much to ask for.”

Dean lets out a long sigh. “Sounds pretty easy when you say it.”

“It’s not supposed to be difficult,” Castiel replies, knowing that he’s more hurt than he should be about this. “Kind of how easy it was for you to invite her out for a drink.”

“You  _know_ it’s not like that!” Dean exclaims.

“Do I? You don’t introduce us, don’t tell her you’re with somebody, you let her touch your chest, you fell into an ‘old habit’ of playing with her hair in the middle of the grocery store, and now you’ve invited her to the bar for a free drink. Even if  _I_ know you’re not available, she doesn’t, and she likely thinks you just asked her out.”

Dean’s mouth drops open and Castiel can tell he’s thinking over what he just said. “Well shit,” Dean responds. Castiel doesn’t say anything as he starts putting the frozen items into the freezer. Dean watches him for several seconds before he says, “So I guess you’re pissed at me for all this, huh?”

“I’m certainly not pleased.”

“You gotta know I was gonna tell her. About us. If she comes by for a drink, there’s no way you wouldn’t have come up,” Dean tells him.

Castiel wants to believe him, but at the same time he doesn’t understand how it would be too awkward to bring it up in a grocery store but perfectly fine to bring up over a beer in the restaurant Dean won’t even touch him in. It doesn’t make any sense.

So he does what he always does and pretends to be fine even though he’s not. “Fine,” he replies, and then he goes back to putting the groceries away.

“Are we done fighting now?” Dean asks.

“I’m not fighting with you. I’m just… jealous,” he admits.

“You’re jealous of  _Lisa_? She’s nothing to me!”

“She used to be something, though. And I’m not blind. She’s a beautiful woman and you share a history with her - a sexual history - and she can offer you things that I can’t. You touched her in the middle of a grocery store, somebody you admittedly haven’t seen in ten years, in a more intimate way than you’ll touch me, the man you’re supposedly in love with, in the bar you own. Of course I’m jealous,” Castiel confesses bitterly.

“Woah, wait a fucking second,” Dean says, his voice hard for the first time. “The man I’m  _supposedly_ in love with? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Castiel’s heart sinks. Because he didn’t mean to say that. Not this time. Not like this. “Nothing. It didn’t mean anything, it just came out.”

“Just because I can’t tell you all the time doesn’t mean it’s not true. I thought you got that!”

“I - I do. Most of the time,” Castiel says quietly. He has to look away when he sees the hurt all over Dean’s face.

“Well, that’s just fucking great. So just to make sure I got it: I’m a shitty fucking boyfriend for not being able to tell you how I feel. I’m a shitty fucking boyfriend for not manning up and introducing you to my ex. I’m a shitty fucking boyfriend for being too fucking scared to touch you in my own bar.  _And_ to top it all off, I’m a shitty fucking boyfriend for not even knowing you were feeling like this. I can’t believe I was dumb enough to think I was making you happy. This is just awesome,” Dean says sarcastically, and then before Castiel can even begin to form a response, Dean grabs his keys off the kitchen counter and starts walking towards the front door.

“Dean, don’t,” Castiel calls after him. He feels like his heart is breaking into a million pieces. It  _hurts_ to see Dean in this much pain. When he turns around Dean has one hand on the doorknob but he’s stopped. “Don’t go.  _Please_ don’t go.”

“I - I don’t know what else to do. I fucked everything up and I can’t even fix it. I can’t be here.”

“Please don’t leave me,” Castiel whispers with tears coming to his eyes. He’s more scared of Dean leaving right now than he’s ever been of anything in his entire life. He suddenly doesn’t care about Lisa, or about how often Dean can manage to tell him he loves him. He doesn’t care that he can’t touch him every time he wants to, and he doesn’t care that he isn’t the most romantic boyfriend in the world. All he knows in this moment is he loves Dean fiercely, with every single part of him, and he doesn’t want to be without him.

Dean turns to face him, and then he’s coming back down the hallway towards Castiel, face soft again, and gathering him up in his arms. Castiel’s tears spill over and fall down his face, and he grips Dean as tight as he can, not ever wanting to let him go.

Dean’s hand is in his hair, stroking through it as he shushes him. That’s when Castiel notices Dean’s shushing him because he’s sobbing.

“Baby, no,” Dean soothes him. “I wasn’t leaving you. I just wanted some space to try and think. I wasn’t leaving for good. I’m never gonna leave you for good.”

“I overreacted,” Castiel tries to explain through his tears. “I do know you love me. I shouldn’t have said that. I was just jealous and I made this into a whole big thing that it didn’t need to be. I swear I don’t think you’re a bad boyfriend.”

“Sometimes I am, though,” Dean replies, and Castiel can hear that his voice is rough, too.

“Sometimes, I am, too,” Castiel reminds him.

Dean shakes his head. “It’s not the same. You have the important shit down, and I don’t. I fuck up like this all the time.”

Castiel breaks away from him to look at him in the face. “You don’t,” he disagrees, lying a little bit. “I swear to you, you don’t. I love you so much, Dean, and you make me happy every single day.”

“Except when I unintentionally ask my ex girlfriend out,” Dean mumbles, and Castiel laughs a little.

“Even when you do that, I still love you. I’m sorry I was jealous. I just - I saw you with her and I could see how easy it was for you to be with her and how she could touch you without having to think about it and I instantly hated her fucking guts.”

Dean’s the one who laughs this time. “Potty mouth,” he teases. Because Castiel doesn’t really swear all that much when not in bed. “Nothing has ever been as easy as it is for me to be with you.” Castiel smiles at him, because Dean doesn’t say things like that often. “You have no freaking clue how many times I go to reach for you in public and have to stop myself. I hate it when I feel like I can’t touch you.”

“I hate it, too,” Castiel confesses.

“You know when we’re at home or with family, how touchy I am?” Castiel nods. “That’s how it’d be all the time if I could do it without thinking that somebody was gonna say something.”

“I don’t care if somebody says something!” Castiel assures him.

“Well, I do,” Dean admits, possibly for the first time. “I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I’m barely in the black at work as it is and I can’t afford to lose any customers. And I don’t want some stranger thinking I’m gay.”

“Are - are you ashamed that they would think -“

“No! Cas, no. It’s not like that. You’re the hottest person in the room anytime we go anywhere, I would never be ashamed to be with you,” Dean says. “I can’t explain it. It just bothers me to think that people would look at us together and think that I’m gay.”

Castiel takes a deep breath. “I don’t understand why you would feel that way, but I understand that you do. I’m sorry for taking it personally.”

“I get it,” Dean says quickly. “If we were out somewhere and you suddenly didn’t want me to touch you, it’d bug the shit out of me too. Just… just know that it’s not only you it’s bugging, okay? It’s just as hard for me not to touch you as it is for you not to touch me. Probably harder, knowin’ how bad I always want to.”

Castiel gives him a little smile and a shaky nod.

“And if you saw me with another man’s hand on my chest and me running my hand through his hair in the grocery store?” Castiel asks.

“I would’ve punched his lights out,” Dean admits quickly. “I fucked up. I shouldn’t have let her touch me like that. Only you get to do that now.” Castiel nods again, feeling better having heard Dean say it. “Can I kiss you now?” Dean asks him.

Castiel’s smile grows, and he says, “Yes, please.”

Then Dean’s kissing him like he’s never going to kiss him again. Their lips crash together in a desperate need to make things better between them. This is how they consistently solve the few disagreements they do have: with their bodies. Because if everything else fails,  _this_ is something they understand about each other. This is something that never, ever wanes.

So Castiel lets Dean push him against the wall, and he ignores everything except for the way Dean’s licking his way into his mouth, and the way his hands are running up and down his body insistently. When Dean wedges his thigh between his legs and starts grinding against him, Castiel lets his head fall back on a groan of pleasure, and Dean feasts on his exposed skin. Castiel can feel his lips lock onto a spot just above his collar and knows he’s marking him, which only adds fuel to the fire coursing through his veins.

Dean tears his lips away and turns his head to the side, exposing his own neck. “Now me,” Dean breathes. “Everybody will know I’m yours.”

Castiel groans before he dives in, sucking a matching mark onto Dean’s skin in the same place his is. Dean’s grinding hard against Castiel and he can feel his erection hard against his leg. When he pulls his mouth away, they’re both panting, but Dean presses their lips together again, and kisses him so perfectly, so dirty, he feels like his legs are going to give out.

“I need you, Cas,” Dean gasps when they finally part.

Dean’s hands are on his fly, and Castiel’s go to Dean’s in response. They both get each other’s pants open, and Castiel gets his hand down Dean’s boxers and takes him in his hand briefly before Dean pushes Castiel’s pants and boxers down completely and sinks to his knees in front of him.

Instantly, Dean takes Castiel’s thick length into his mouth in one quick motion.

“ _Dean_!” Castiel calls out. Dean takes as much of Castiel’s cock as he can, and then sucks on his way back up to the tip, and Castiel feels the quick flick of his tongue over his sensitive slit. Dean’s hand fondles Castiel’s balls, rolling them in his palm before rubbing them exactly the way he knows Castiel likes best. Castiel bites down on his bottom lip when he watches Dean’s perfectly plump lips stretch around him. No matter how many times Dean does this for him, he never gets over just how fucking beautiful he looks with his cock in his mouth. He brings his hand to the side of Dean’s face so he can feel the way his jaw is stretched open, and the way his mouth works around him.

“Feels so good, Dean,” Castiel praises him. “You look so good on your knees in front of me. You know exactly how I like it.”

Then Dean’s hands are on his ass, and he pulls him in and looks up to meet Castiel’s eyes, signaling that he’s ready for Castiel to fuck his mouth. Dean hardly ever lets Castiel do this, and he groans low and loud when he realizes what he’s about to get.

Dean lets his mouth go slack, and Castiel grips the back of his head with both hands and thrusts into his mouth shallowly. Dean moans around him, egging him on, and his next thrust is deeper because he can’t hold back. “You like my cock?” Castiel rasps. Dean answers with a moan around him, and Castiel closes his eyes to concentrate on the vibrations moving along his shaft. “Touch yourself,” he asks Dean. “I want you to come with my cock in your mouth.”

Castiel keeps his eyes closed for a little while, losing himself in the perfect slide of his heavy cock along Dean’s tongue with each thrust, every now and then angling his hips so that he hits the roof of his mouth. Then he starts fucking Dean’s mouth hard and fast, and he can feel the way Dean’s body is shaking beneath him, and can hear the slick slapping of his hand on his dick. He opens his eyes to look, and moans when he sees Dean’s cockhead with a drop of precome on the tip while it fucks in and out of his fist.

“God, you’re so hot, Dean. I can hardly look at you without coming. Your fucking mouth is perfect. You feel  _so_ good, look so good. I’m close already,” Castiel warns him. Dean moans an affirmative sound, which Castiel takes to mean he’s close, too. Dean increases the suction on his cock and Castiel gasps, fucking deeper into his mouth and into his throat and making Dean gag around him. Dean gives a tiny little nod of his head, telling Castiel it’s okay to do it again, and when Castiel does and Dean gags again, he feels the resistance of his throat trying to keep him out, and when he pushes into it again he can instantly feel his orgasm approaching.

“I’m gonna come,” he warns Dean.

And then Dean pulls off, and Castiel’s hand goes down to his cock to keep stroking himself automatically. He’s so fucking close.

Dean’s voice is hard and rough when he looks up at Castiel and says, “You want everybody to know you’re mine, Cas? Come on me. Come all over my face. I’m yours, baby. Only yours, and I want you to show me.”

“Dean,” Castiel groans. He gets off on coming on Dean, but Dean’s never let him come on his face before.

Dean looks down at the way his own hand is flying over his cock and his eyes are wide when he looks back up at Cas. “I - I want you to. I’m so fucking hot waiting for it. You’re gonna make me blow when you come all over my face, baby. Fucking  _own me_ , Cas. I’m yours.”

Dean’s  _never_ said anything like this to him before, and he had no idea he wanted it as much as he seems to, but his body reacts almost instantly, and a single twist of his wrist sends his orgasm crashing into him. His first spurt of cum lands right on Dean’s cheek, and the sight alone has him coming again, almost painfully hard, and it takes everything he has to keep his eyes open as he watches another rope of cum land on Dean’s chin, and then across his swollen lips. Then Dean’s mouth drops open and his eyes squeeze shut, and he yells out, “Cas!” when he finds his own release. Castiel can’t look away from his cum on Dean’s face to watch him come, but just knowing that it’s happening makes arousal twist even tighter in his stomach, and he sticks his cock back into Dean’s open mouth for him to swallow every last drop he has.

Dean wraps his lips around him and sucks until he’s dry, and then laps up what Castiel got on his hand, and then his tongue darts out to clean up what he can reach on his own face.

Castiel drops to his knees in front of him and kisses him, seeking the taste of his cum in Dean’s mouth, and groaning happily when he finds it. When he has to break away to try and catch his breath, he wipes Dean’s face clean with the hem of his t-shirt, and then gets to his feet and helps Dean up as well. Dean winces when he gets up and rubs at his knees, trying to get the circulation back.

“Too fucking old for your hardwood floors, babe,” Dean teases, and Castiel laughs before he leans in to kiss him again.

“Was - was it okay that we just did that?” Castiel asks, suddenly feeling terrible for degrading the man he loves so much in such a sexual way.

“Uh, yeah, man. I was more into it than I’d like to admit,” Dean says quietly, not looking at him.

“I love you,” Castiel reminds him. “And I don’t think any less of you for that.”

“I know,” Dean answers. “Are we okay, Cas?”

Castiel nods and leans in to kiss him again. “Are you okay?”

“As long as you didn’t mean what you said. That you really know how I feel about you.”

“I know,” Castiel promises. Right now, he does.

“Good. I’m gonna go take a shower so I don’t smell like sex when I go to work in an hour,” Dean says with a chuckle.

“I’ll get the floor,” Castiel offers, looking down at the mess Dean made.

Dean steps over the mess, holding his pants up, then smirks as he walks past Castiel and up the stairs. “Have fun with that.”

And just like that, everything’s back to normal.

* * *

 

 

**September:**

 

**DEAN:** I need help with a birthday gift idea for Cas

**CHARLIE:** Hell yeah you do!

**DEAN:** So… help?

**CHARLIE:** All I know about him is he likes Harry Potter, cats, you, Coke, reading, Friends, and hot football players.

**DEAN:** Sure as fuck ain’t buying him one of those

**CHARLIE:** Hah! Jealous Deanie Weanie :D Adorbs!!!!

**DEAN:** Come on, Charlie, I’m desperate here! I’ve fucked up every gift I’ve ever given him and I can’t fuck this up, too!

**CHARLIE:** Okay, okay. Don’t be so dramatic. He’s into the whole romantic gesture thing, right?

**DEAN:** Yah. He told me he doesn’t even care if I buy him anything, he just likes things that mean something, but I’m shit at that shit

**DEAN:** lol

**CHARLIE:** I’m on Pinterest.

**DEAN:** Wtf is that?

**CHARLIE:** Don’t worry about that. K, so, you can make a coupon book offering to do nice things for him - or sexy things - that he can cash in whenever he wants.

**CHARLIE:** You can make a jar and fill it with a bunch of slips of paper written with all the things you love about him on them.

**CHARLIE:** You can make a scavenger hunt and have it lead to some kind of gift.

**CHARLIE:** You can make him a key to your heart.

**CHARLIE:** OOOH! Why don’t you give him a key to your apartment?

**DEAN:**  Why? What’s the point of that?

**CHARLIE:** It’s symbolic or something. Shows you trust him not to steal your shit. That you’re okay with him being there when you’re not.

**DEAN:** But he’s never there when I’m not?

**CHARLIE:** Because he doesn’t have a key!!!

**DEAN:** Feels weird to me. Are you sure that’s a good idea?

**CHARLIE:** Fuck if I know! Ask Sam and Jess.

**DEAN:** Hey loser. Is it a “romantic gesture” to give Cas a key to my place for his birthday?

**SAM:** Who is this?

**DEAN:** Fuck off Sam

**SAM:** This can’t possibly be my big brother. Because Dean would never make an adult decision like giving his boyfriend a key to his apartment unless he was being held at gunpoint.

**SAM:** ARE YOU BEING HELD AT GUNPOINT?

**DEAN:** I hate you

**SAM:** Yes, I think it’s a good idea, dummy.

**DEAN:** Ask Jess, too.

**SAM:** Jess said she can’t believe you’ve been together more than a year and he doesn’t already have a key.

**DEAN:** Fuck you both

 

Dean wants to do really, really good for Cas’s birthday this year, so he goes to the dollar store and buys some note cards and a hole punch, and he thinks up 12 things he could offer Cas in coupon form. It takes some time, but he comes up with a list of things he thinks that will make Cas happy.

He writes them on the cards as nicely as he can and even puts hearts in the corners. This is the cheesiest fucking thing he’s ever done, and he blushes furiously every single time he writes out a card. He’d never do this for anybody but Cas. He realizes belatedly he doesn’t have anything to tie the cards together with, and ends up pushing a paper clip through the hole. He figures it goes well with the whole note card thing and doesn’t overthink it.

He buys a little box for the key he had made, and even remembers a bow to put on it. He feels like he’s finally going to nail the whole gift giving thing and he’s really freaking proud of himself for it.

At Castiel’s request, they have dinner on his birthday at The Roadhouse. Dean makes the burgers though, and the smile on Castiel’s face is worth the inconvenience (and the health and food safety rules he was breaking by bringing in his own food). Everybody showers him with gifts, and Dean becomes the butt of many jokes when he explains that he wants to give Castiel his gift in private. Dean baked him a chocolate cake from scratch, and even he has to admit it’s damn good. Castiel can’t stop smiling, and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen him happier.

When they’re back at Castiel’s house later that night, Dean brings him his gifts. He goes with the key first, thinking it’s the least embarrassing of the two.

Castiel opens the small box and looks up at Dean with his eyes shining and a huge smile on his face. “Does this mean what I think it means?” Castiel gasps.

“Yeah! Well, I hope so anyway. I uh, wanted to make a symbolic gesture. To show that I trust you, and I’m comfortable with having you being in my apartment even when I’m not there. That you’re always welcome, you know. You don’t have to ask anymore. What’s mine is yours and all that,” he explains awkwardly.

Castiel’s smile falls a little bit, but it’s replaced just as fast and he leans over to hug Dean. “Thank you. I love it. I’m going to sneak in and leave you your own dirty laundry to do now,” Castiel teases, and Dean laughs.

“Okay, so, uh. This was honestly Charlie’s idea, but I came up with all the stuff inside on my own. I know it’s super fucking cheesy, but you said it didn’t have to cost anything and you wanted it to mean somethin’. So I wanted to try to show you how much you mean to me, even though a five year old probably coulda done a better job,” he finishes lamely. “Anyway, here.” He thrusts the note cards towards Castiel.

Castiel picks it up and reads, “ _Dean Winchester’s Coupon Book of Love_.” A big smile spreads across his face, and Dean half wants to hide under the couch and never come back out and half puff out his chest with pride. “This is extremely cute.”

He flips to the first card and reads, “One free blow job.” He laughs a little and says, “The ultimate gesture of love according to Dean.”

“Exactly,” Dean agrees. “Plus, free blow job. That can’t ever be bad, right?”

“I will never complain about that, no,” Castiel agrees. He flips to the next card. “Sex in public.” His eyes flick up to Dean and Dean can see laughter dancing there. “Are these supposed to be gifts for me or you?”

“Hey! You’re the one who initiated the car sex and road head! I thought you were into that!”

“I am,” Castiel agrees. “I appreciate that you noticed that.” He reads the next card aloud, “Car tune up, wash and wax, all while shirtless. Yes, I believe I will enjoy watching this one come to pass. Very good idea.”

Castiel visibly deflates when he reads the next card. Dean looks over his shoulder to see which one it is.  _I’ll tell you I love you out loud._

“That’s gotta be your favourite one, right?” Dean urges him. Castiel’s eyes are sad when he looks back up at him and Dean doesn’t get it. “What? What’s wrong? You love when I tell you that I love you. I know I suck at saying it, so I thought you could, you know, prompt me with this and then I’d be able to get it out.”

Castiel shakes his head and looks away for a minute. Dean doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He thought that was a good one. “If that one sucks then just go to the next one,” he decides half in a panic. “I can change it for something else. I had other ideas.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel lies. And Dean can tell he’s lying - he’s always lying when he says he’s fine - but he still doesn’t know what the problem is. “It’s… nice of you to offer to tell me when I prompt you. Thank you.” He reads the next card, “Cuddling on the couch without you bitching about it.” His face has that same sad look on it and Dean wants to rip his own hair out. What the hell is going on!? He thought Castiel would _love_ this!

“You love cuddling, don’t you?” Dean asks.

“I do. I love being close to you,” Castiel answers.

“So now you get to wherever you want!” Dean points out.

“That’s great, Dean. Great idea,” Castiel fakes. “You’ll do a chore of my choice for a week. Now  _that’s_ fantastic,” Castiel says, and Dean thinks he might mean it this time. “It’s going to take some real thinking on my part to come up with the chore I hate to do the most. This will be invaluable during tax season.”

Dean smiles. This is more like what he was hoping Cas’s reaction would be. This is good.

Then he turns to the next page and reads, “One kiss at work in front of everybody.” His shoulders slump again, and Dean notices his hands are trembling.

“Cas?” Dean asks, concerned.

“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” he promises, and then he’s up and out of his seat and closing  _and locking_ the bathroom door behind him.

What the actual fuck?

How many times has Cas alluded to the fact that he wants Dean to kiss him and be more affectionate towards him while he’s at work? It isn’t easy for Dean to do that - hell, it’s actually really fucking hard - but he’s offering to do it to make Cas happy, and now Cas seems like he’s the complete opposite of happy and Dean doesn’t know what the fuck he did. He even rereads the card wondering if he misspelled something and Cas thinks he’s dumb or if he wrote the wrong word or something by mistake, but it looks good to him. He has no idea what else to do except for wait for Cas to come back out.

It’s a good ten minutes before he hears the bathroom door open, and he notices the distinct lack of the flush of the toilet. Cas actually needed to get away from Dean and Dean is so fucking lost.

“You okay, baby?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods and picks up the coupon book again. He turns to the next one and chuckles a little bit when he reads, “Free pass for anything I want in bed. Explore my kinks! No judgement.” His laugh is all wrong though. A small smile comes to Castiel’s lips and he says, “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into here, Dean.”

Dean’s own smile is genuine and he leans in to kiss him on the cheek. “Anything goes,” he promises.

“A massage with a happy ending,” Castiel laughs. “You are very good with your hands. I believe a massage - happy ending or not - would be extremely satisfying. That’s sweet.”

“You deserve it,” Dean says quickly. Castiel is still a little off and he knows he needs to suck up even if he doesn’t know why.

“A strip show!” Castiel exclaims. “Can you dance?”

Dean shrugs. “I can try. I’m hot enough that it shouldn’t really matter anyway,” he teases and Castiel laughs.

“And modest, too,” he points out, and Dean flushes a little bit. “Chick flick movie night. Again, are you  _sure_ these are supposed to be for me and not for you?”

“Oh screw you,” Dean replies. He  _may_ enjoy a good chick flick, but there’s no way he’s admitting that to anybody, even Cas. “You like the girly shit, so I thought letting you watch what you want for a night might be nice.”

Castiel is shaking his head in what Dean hopes is amusement when he gets to the last page. “Passenger picks the music for two weeks. Now _this_ is a grand gesture. Too bad your car only has a tape deck in it. None of the music I would choose to listen to is out in cassette.”

Dean reaches into his back pocket and produces a blank cassette tape. “Gift number three. I, uh, stole your phone and made a list of your most played songs on iTunes, then put them onto a mixed tape for you. Charlie helped me do something techy with her computer and this tiny little plug in cassette player thingy, and this baby was born,” he explains.

Castiel’s eyes go soft, and he leans over to wrap his arms around Dean’s neck. “Thank you, Dean. For all of it. The key, the mixed tape, and even the… the coupon book. I can tell that a great amount of thought went into these gifts and I really appreciate them.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean tells him. “I just wanted to show you that you’re awesome, and I’m glad you were born or whatever,” he laughs. “So! You wanna cash in one of these babies right now? Birthday blow job? Public sex? Massage with a happy ending?” Dean asks enthusiastically.

Castiel shakes his head. “No, not tonight. I’m actually pretty beat, so I think I’m just going to turn in early.”

Dean frowns. “But… but birthday sex,” he sputters. “It’s always a thing with us.”

“I love you very much, Dean, but I’m just not in the mood tonight. Maybe I’ll use a coupon tomorrow instead,” he offers.

Again, Dean knows there’s something very wrong here, but he just doesn’t know what. He keeps asking, and Cas just isn't talking to him. But still, he asks again.“You’re okay, though? I did what you wanted for the whole gift thing, right?”

Castiel tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and Dean feels it like a punch in the gut. “You did." Why does he keep lying to him about this? How's he supposed to know what he did wrong if Cas won't tell him? "Are you coming up to bed now or do you still want to stay up a bit?”

“I’ll be right up. I just have to wrap up the cake,” Dean promises.

“Okay. Thanks again for tonight. Everything was wonderful. I had a great time at The Roadhouse,” Castiel tells him, and that, at least, seems sincere.

“I’m glad. I’ll be up in just a minute.”

When Dean joins Castiel in their bedroom less than twenty minutes later, Castiel doesn’t turn towards him to make him the little spoon the way he usually does. So he curls in behind him instead and kisses the back of his neck. “Happy birthday, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel whispers, and Dean’s heart starts thumping wildly after a few minutes when Cas doesn’t say that he loves him the way he does every other night. It feels significant, and it actually kinda hurts.

He has a split second to wonder if this is how Cas feels every time he doesn’t say it, before the words spill out. “I love you,” he whispers.

Dean can actually feel Castiel relax, and he places his hand on Dean’s arm that’s wound around him. “I love you too,” he answers.

Castiel seems to fall asleep easily, but Dean’s awake for what seems like hours before he finally joins him.

 

* * *

 

**October:**

 

Castiel dresses up as Harry Potter for Halloween and goes to join Dean for a little while at The Roadhouse once the kids stop coming to his door trick or treating. Seeing Dean behind the bar in his full cowboy costume is almost more than he can take, and surprisingly, Dean has a kink for Castiel in glasses.

When he’s making the short walk back to his house, he doesn’t know  _how_ exactly the two of them ended up blowing each other in Dean’s small office, but it was one of the best Halloweens Castiel can remember having. For a few minutes anyway.

He was apparently petty enough to enjoy the look of disgust Jo gave him when they come out of Dean’s office together looking debauched with puffy lips and sex hair. He even rode the high long enough to drag Dean in for a messy kiss across the bar before he left, and that’s when most of the euphoria faded away after he saw the look of surprise and fear all over Dean’s face.

He left after he told Dean somewhat bitterly that he’d give him the coupon for it later.

When he’s lying in bed later that night, he pretends again, the same way he’s been pretending every day since his birthday, that the fact that he even needs a coupon to kiss his boyfriend of almost a year and a half in his bar doesn’t break his heart into a million tiny pieces. He does a terrible job of convincing himself, and he doesn’t manage to fall asleep until Dean’s reassuring heat climbs into bed behind him at two in the morning.

He pulls Dean into his arms and comforts himself with how much better he always feels being close to Dean. He tells himself nothing else matters, and that things between them will get better. He just needs to let Dean do things in his own time. It won’t always be like this.

... which is the same thing he’s been telling himself for months. He  _really_  needs to talk to Dean about all of this. He can't keep waiting for Dean to change his behavior on his own, because he's fairly sure at this point that it isn't going to happen.   
  
But how can he bring it up without hurting Dean's feelings? He remembers how hurt Dean looked the last time he let it slip that he doesn't always remember how much Dean loves him, and he doesn't want to do anything to cause him additional pain. Dean can be so sweet and attentive and caring when he wants to be, and he knows Dean tries  _so hard_  to make him happy.   
  
He's selfish to ask for more after everything Dean's already given him... but he can't keep going on like this, either. 

 

* * *

**November:**

 

“Hello?” Sam’s voice answers.

“Sammy, I think I finally found it,” Dean says, his voice rough.

“Holy shit, really?” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah. What’re you doin’ right now?”

“I just got out of class. You want me to come meet you?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure this is it, but I need to make sure I’m not gonna fuck it up and get something dumb,” Dean answers. “I’m at some little shop on Main Street. Miss?” he asks the sales lady who has been helping him. “What’s this place called again? Vested Interest, Sammy. On Main.”

“I’ll be there in five,” Sam promises before he hangs up.

Dean tucks his phone back into his pocket and stares down at the ring in his hand.

“I get the feeling you’ve been looking for a while,” the sales lady says to him.

“Since September,” he tells her. “I was about to give up. I don’t even know what made me come in here.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. All of our jewelry is locally made, all by hand, and there isn’t a single piece that’s replicated. Everything is one hundred percent original.”

Dean smiles. “I like the sounds of that. Coz there ain't nobody like Cas, either.”

“How long have you and your boyfriend been together?” she asks. Dean wonders why it doesn’t bother him for this stranger to know he’s into Cas or that he wants to propose to his boyfriend, but it doesn’t. And it feels fucking great.

“A year and a half. We were best friends before that. Which is kinda why I like this one,” he explains, still staring at the ring.

She makes a hum of understanding. “I get it now. That’s incredibly sweet.”

Dean smiles but shakes his head. “You have to say that because you want me to buy it.”

“The two things are not mutually exclusive,” she admits with a smile, and Dean grins back at her. He appreciates the honesty. “Can I ask you something that I’ve always wondered about?”

“Sure, but I’m not gonna answer if I don’t want to,” Dean warns her.

“How do you decide which one of you proposes in a same sex relationship?”

Dean shrugs. “I figure whoever gets there first wins,” he answers.

She laughs. “Really? That’s all there is to it? It didn’t come up when you and your boyfriend first started talking about marriage?”

Dean snorts. “Well, I dunno about other people, but this isn’t something we’ve actually talked about. We don’t do a lot of talkin’ about that kinda thing.”

“So this is a surprise?” she asks, gesturing to the ring.

“Yeah,” Dean smiles.

“Are you nervous?”

Dean shakes his head. “Never woulda thought I’d say no, but no. If I’m absolutely sure about anything, it’s that he loves me.”

“You’re very lucky,” she comments.

Dean hears the bell jingle behind him signaling that somebody’s opened the door, and he turns to see Sam walking in.

“Hey, man. Thanks for coming so fast,” Dean says.

“After the twenty stores we’ve been to already, believe me, I’m happy to be here,” Sam says. He shoots the sales lady a kind smile and then walks over to join Dean. “Which one is it?”

Dean picks it up out of the little tray and lays it in his palm. The three intertwining silver rings fall apart as if to show the way they’re connected.

“Why this one?” Sam asks.

Dean looks up at his brother and gives him a hard look. “You make fun of me for this and I’ll kick your ass,” he threatens.

“C’mon, Dean. I’m not going to make fun of you for explaining why you chose a ring,” Sam says kindly.

“Well the three ring thing is what got me. Made me think about how we started off as friends, you know?” He points to the first ring. “Then, this one is… now. Boyfriends.” He points to the third ring and he feels his smile tug at his lips. “And this is what’s coming. Husbands.” He rolls them up so the three of them look like one ring and says, “Then when it’s together, it’s… it’s just us, you know?”

Sam nods his head, getting it. “Past, present, and future,” he sums up, and Dean feels his eyes water. That’s it exactly. That’s what Cas is to him. Everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be is all because of Cas. “It’s perfect,” Sam agrees.

“Yeah?” Dean asks, breathless.

Sam sniffles and rolls his shoulders, and Dean knows he’s getting emotional the same way he is, though they’re both trying to hide it. “I’m really happy for you, man,” Sam says, his voice lower than usual.

“Don’t fucking cry on me, Samantha,” Dean teases him and gives him an elbow to the ribs, because he knows if Sam starts he’s gonna start, and he really doesn’t want to cry in the middle of a jewelry store. “Do you think it matters that it only costs a couple of hundred bucks? Should it be more expensive or something?”

Sam gives him a confused look. “You’ve got more than that?”

“Well, no, but I could put it on a card or whatever.”

Sam shakes his head. “We’ve looked at more expensive rings. The fanciest ones that’re out there. But this - this is the only one you looked at and saw Cas. And Cas isn’t going to care how much it cost. He’s going to drop dead of a heart attack that you did this at all,” Sam jokes, and Dean laughs, because Cas definitely has no idea this is coming. “But he’s not going to ask to see the price tag. This is the one, Dean. I’m sure of it.”

Dean takes a deep breath and places the ring back on the glass display case. “Wrap it up,” he tells the saleslady. And as far as Dean’s concerned, she gets big points for not pointing out how wet his eyes are.


	9. Chapter 9

Today is Christmas Eve, and Castiel, Dean, Sam, Jess, Jo, and Ellen are all gathered at Ellen’s house just like every other Christmas Eve since Dean’s parents died. This is Christmas now, just like this is what’s left of his family.

Dean’s got the engagement ring he bought Cas burning a hole in his pocket, and now that they’re all stuffed full of the many, many different appetizers and desserts Ellen and Dean cooked for tonight, Dean’s nursing his beer and waiting for the right moment to get down on one knee to ask Cas to be his husband.

Castiel is sitting on the couch with Dean on the floor between his knees, resting his body back against the couch with an elbow hooked over Castiel’s knee. Castiel used to feel all warm and happy inside whenever he had the chance to be like this with Dean in front of other people, but somewhere along the way it’s become harder and harder to appreciate these moments. Instead, he keeps focusing on how perfect their relationship would be if it could be like this all the time. Now, having moments like these just seem to make him feel even more bitter about the times he can’t have them. He takes another sip of his spiked eggnog and tries to remind himself to appreciate what he has in the moment. Right now, Dean’s being the way he loves him the most, and he needs to try to focus on that. It’s Christmas. They should be happy!

Dean’s got his arm hooked over Castiel’s leg, slowly sipping from his beer, trying to convince himself he’s not nervous. In some ways, he’s really not. He loves Cas, and he knows Cas loves him, and he’s positive he’s going to say yes. The part that’s making him nervous is getting down on one knee in front of everybody and trying to put into words how much he loves Cas and how much he means to him.

He figures another beer or two will help with that, so he drinks them down, trading secret smiles with Sam and Jess who both know tonight’s the night. As the evening continues, the looks he gets from Sam and Jess turn into questioning ones, and when Castiel’s fingers start brushing against the back of his neck rhythmically, he can’t take it anymore and he goes it for it.

He tips his head up to look at Cas upside down and says, “You know how I said no gifts this year?”

Castiel huffs his annoyance. As if he would forget the way Dean insisted upon him not buying him anything. Castiel even tried telling him that he would be perfectly happy if Dean didn’t buy him anything in return, as long as Dean would be okay with receiving a gift or two from him. Dean had shot him down though, and was more insistent about it than he’d seen him be about almost anything. In one way, Castiel’s pleased that they might not have to relive another nightmare of a gift like the coupon book had turned out to be. Only Dean Winchester could rip his heart out and stomp all over it while trying to make a romantic gesture. “I remember the no gift suggestion vaguely, yes,” Castiel answers dryly.

“There was kinda a reason for that,” Dean smiles.

Dean’s heart is beating erratically in his chest, and his palms are sweating, but this is it. This is the moment. He can feel it. He barely hears Castiel say, “Oh really?” in a laughing tone of voice.

He scooches away from Castiel on his butt, keeping his back to him, and gets up to his knees to dip his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. He pulls out the ring box, and takes a look around the room. He locks eyes with Sammy, who grins at him nice and big, and then Jess, who looks like she’s about to bounce out of her seat. He pops the top of the ring box, and takes a deep breath before he turns around to face Cas on one knee.

When Castiel sees what’s happening it’s almost like he’s having an out-of-body experience. He knows his mouth is hanging open in shock, but he can’t actually feel any part of his body. Dean is down on one knee with a ring box in his hand. He can’t breathe. Surely even Dean knows what this looks like. This can’t possibly be a repeat of his birthday when he thought Dean was asking him to move in with him and in reality, he was just giving him a copy of his key as a “symbolic gesture”. Much later, Castiel will tell himself that’s why he didn’t stop Dean from proposing. Because a part of him didn’t really think that’s what he was going to do.

Dean can’t help but grin up at Cas and the absolutely shocked expression he has on his face. He really had no idea, and he’s adorable. He had a big speech planned out in his head, but what ends up coming out is simple and to the point. “You’re it for me, Cas. You’re the best person I’ve ever known, the best friend I’ve ever had, and I don’t wanna go through another day for the rest of my life without you in it. Will you marry me?”

Castiel didn’t know his heart could beat so fast, and his stomach could drop, and his mind could spin all at the same time until this moment. He loves, Dean, yes. Of course he does. But… is he really willing to settle for only being told Dean loves him once a month for the rest of his life? Is he willing to commit to never being able to touch Dean easily in public forever? He absolutely wants to spend the rest of his life with Dean, but… just not the way things are right now. They’ll have to work through some things first. Castiel will actually have to tell Dean how he feels, about how much it hurts when he feels under appreciated, and how it’s kind of like a tiny but very painful paper cut every single time he tells Dean he loves him and Dean doesn’t say it back. And then they’ll have to see if it’s something Dean can change, and if not, what will happen then?

But how can they talk about that now, when Dean is down on one knee in front of his entire family on Christmas Eve? The very last thing he wants is to hurt or embarrass him.

“Cas?” Dean prompts him, and Castiel sees his cocky smile falter just a little bit,  _Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry_ , he thinks, his heart already breaking for what he has to do.

Castiel puts the most convincing smile on his face that he can, and he reaches his hand out to cup his face. “I love you  _so much_ ,” he says honestly, and Dean smiles bigger at him now. “But I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by the audience,” he says quietly. “Can we go finish this somewhere more private?”

 _Somewhere private?_ Dean thinks, his heart dropping into his stomach. Well, he guesses he can understand why having his entire family watching might be a little panic inducing. He’s definitely feeling a little bit of that right now, too. “Sure, babe. Of course,” he answers quickly. Cas helps Dean back up to his feet, and Dean sends half a smile over his shoulder to Sam and Jess and says, “To be continued.” He ignores the way they both look like they’re about to cry, and  _not_ the happy kinda crying he was expecting. He and Cas are going to be fine.

Dean leads Castiel up the stairs and into the bedroom they’re staying in tonight by his hand, and then Castiel closes the door behind him.

“This ain't exactly how I thought this was gonna go,” Dean confesses, feeling more nervous now than he did in front of everybody else.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Castiel says with every ounce of feeling he can muster. “I had no idea you were planning this,” he explains. “You caught me completely off guard.”

Dean can’t seem to make his lips smile the way he wants them to. Why is Cas saying sorry, exactly? Just for not agreeing to marry him in front of his family, right? “I know,” he answers, and he’s surprised to hear how flat his voice sounds. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Castiel closes his eyes. Another big gesture from Dean that just isn’t going the way he wants it to. Castiel feels his heart go out to him again. Dean really tries so hard and he loves him so much for it. “You know I love you,” he says again, needing to drive it into his head.

“I know,” Dean echoes. “And I feel the same way about you, and I want to make it forever. I want you to marry me.”

“I - I want to marry you, too,” Castiel answers carefully, and then he wants to kick himself when he sees Dean’s face light up. “I love you, Dean, more than absolutely anything. But I’m just… I’m so surprised by this. I had no idea it was coming, and I didn’t even know marriage was something you wanted. You always made it seem like it wasn’t even an option. I - I think I just need some time to process this when we don’t have your whole family waiting for us downstairs.”

Dean feels like he’s going to throw up. He feels his eyes begin to water, and he turns away from Cas so that Cas can’t see. He can’t believe this is happening to him. He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself so he can answer Cas. But he can’t even get a word out before Cas is wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“Please don’t be mad,” Castiel whispers.

“Don’t be mad?” Dean repeats incredulously. “I’m not _mad_ , Cas, I’m fucking heartbroken.” He pretends his voice didn’t crack and he’s not fighting back tears.

“ _No_ ,” Castiel whispers, turning him so that they’re face to face again. “No, no, no. Please, Dean, look at me,” Castiel begs. “Please don’t be heartbroken.  _I love you_. I want to be with you. I’m not saying no,” he reminds him.

“You’re sure as fuck not saying yes!” Dean exclaims, finally looking at Cas in the face for the first time and seeing his heartbreak mirrored in his eyes. He can’t look at him like this. He looks at the ground instead.

“Dean,  _please_ try to understand,” Castiel begs again, his voice rough and desperate. “If you want to spend forever with me like you say you do, please, just wait a few days for us to talk this through.”

Dean feels his eyes fill again and looks up the ceiling so the tears don’t fall. “I - I can’t even believe you have to think about it. The only thing I’ve ever been sure about in my whole fucking life is  _you_. That you - you loved me. You  _said_ you loved me,” he reminds him.

“I do! I do, Dean. I love you more than anything,” Castiel promises, and he reaches out to try to cup his face again, but Dean turns his head away from him, refusing his touch. “You have to know that.”

The stupid thing is that Dean does. He can still see it through all of the hurt in Castiel’s eyes. Cas loves him, and he loves Cas, and he doesn’t get why Cas isn’t saying yes. “I believe you,” he whispers, and it costs him to admit it, but still, he says it for Cas. “I just - I don’t get why you aren’t sayin’ yes if you love me as much as I do you.”

Castiel wants to cry for an entirely new reason now. Out of frustration. Dean hasn’t  _once_ said he loves him since he proposed. It wasn’t even in the proposal itself, and he hasn’t said it since to try and convince him that it’s true. He’s alluded to it, sure. He’s said it without saying it the way he always does. But if he can’t even tell him he loves him when he’s asking him to marry him, when else is he not going to be willing to say it? On their wedding day? Surely Castiel isn’t the selfish person he’s feeling like right now for wanting that, is he?

“Just wait until after Christmas. You and I can take our time and talk it all out tomorrow night after everything else is all finished, and I know we can make this work. There’s nothing I want more than to have that absolutely gorgeous ring on my finger where it belongs,” Castiel says honestly.

Dean wants that to be true so badly he reaches for Cas. He hates himself for needing him, but he does. He’s more upset than he’s ever been in his entire life  _because_ of Cas, but Cas is the only one who can make him feel better. So when he makes a move towards him, and Cas pulls him tight to his body and wraps him in his arms, he goes willingly.

Castiel strokes his hand down Dean’s back and presses kisses to the side of his head and into his hair. He  _hates_ that he’s done something to make Dean this upset but he couldn’t just say yes with the way things are between them. He has all the confidence in the world that they can work through this though, and that’s what he repeats to Dean.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises Dean. “I love you and I want to be with you forever.” He goes to release him but Dean just grips him tighter and so Castiel hangs on, repeating his declaration of love over and over.

Dean clings to Cas like he’s the only thing keeping him in once piece. In a way, he feels like he is. This is wrong. Tonight wasn’t supposed to happen like this. They were supposed to be drinking the champagne Sam and Jess bought and Dean’s supposed to be rolling his eyes at all of Cas’s suggestions about an upcoming wedding while secretly loving every single one of them. They’re supposed to be arguing over a wedding date, not trying not to fall apart in each other’s arms. As time drags by and Dean tries to get his shit together, he realizes it all boils down to Cas not knowing if he wants to marry him. That’s why he didn’t say yes. Because he has to think about it.

And fuck, that stings. That stings  _a lot_. But Dean can give him time. It fucking sucks, but he can wait, right? What’s a few days?

Then he remembers everybody waiting for them downstairs and he feels like he’s going to throw up all over again. They’re all going to know Cas doesn’t love him as much as he loves Cas, and he’s going to look like a fucking loser in front of his family. They’re all going to give him pitying looks.  _Poor Dean._ He thought he was done with that shit.

He breaks out of Cas’s arms, suddenly feeling like he needs space. His voice is hard when he says, “What am I s’posed to tell everybody, huh? We’re gonna go down there and - and you’re not gonna be wearing your en-“ suddenly he can’t say the word “- the, uh, ring I bought you,” he stammers. “And they’re gonna know you said no.”

“I didn’t  _say no_ ,” Castiel repeats. It’s imperative that Dean understands this. “I’m not saying no now either,” he reminds him. “As for everybody else… we can just tell them the ring doesn’t fit, if you’d like?”

“They, uh -“ Dean has to stop to clear his throat and fight away more tears. “Sam and Jess bought champagne. To… celebrate, you know.”

Castiel feels a fresh crack in his heart.

“I don’t think I can, Cas,” Dean says in a whisper. “I can’t go down there and let them see me when I’m… like this…”

“We can go home,” Castiel offers. “We can go home and work this out right now. We can talk it through and come back first thing tomorrow morning. We can have champagne and celebrate tomorrow night on Christmas Day.”

Dean wants to. He wants to more than anything. Except he and Sam  _always_ wake up on Christmas morning together. It’s Dean’s job to look after Sam and he’s the only real family he has. He can’t just leave Sam alone on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. “I want to, but I have to stay with Sam. I’m the only family he has left,” he tries to explain.

“I understand,” Castiel says softly. “Why don’t you stay here then? I’ll go down and tell everybody we love each other and we’re working out the details of our engagement, but we’re exhausted and turning in early.”

Dean thinks that’s putting more of a positive spin on it than the situation probably deserves, but he’s also a chicken shit, so he nods his head.

“I love you,” Castiel says again. Dean thinks it feels a bit like a balm, soothing Dean’s broken heart every time he says it. He nods again.

“I’ll be right back,” Castiel promises.

Castiel walks out of the bedroom and down the stairs with a heavy heart. As he expected, every set of eyes turns towards him as he enters the room. “Everything’s fine,” he tells them preemptively.

“Where’s Dean?” Sam asks.

“We’re both feeling extremely exhausted after all of the excitement of the night, so we’re just turning in a little early.”

“Where’s your ring?” Jess asks, sadly.

Castiel gives her a sad smile in return. “Doesn’t fit. It’s perfect though,” he adds.

“So are you…?” Jess asks again.

“We’re working out the details,” Castiel answers smoothly, smiling to reassure her. “It would be easier on both Dean and myself if it isn’t constantly brought up. After the holidays when Dean and I have a minute to discuss a few things, we’ll all get together again to celebrate our engagement.”

“Is Dean okay?” Sam asks.

“We’re both a little embarrassed it happened like it did, but I promise I’ll take good care of him.”

“You coulda just said yes, you know,” Jo pipes up.  

Castiel has to bite his tongue. “I assure you, in a few days, the ring will be sized and on my finger where it belongs.”

“I’m sure he needs you right now,” Ellen says, speaking up for the first time. “Go be with him. Tell him how much you love him until he believes you. We’ll see you boys in the morning, and I better see smiles on your faces.”

“Absolutely,” Castiel says with a small smile already. “Thank you for understanding.”

Meanwhile, Dean is in their bedroom for the night, and cursing himself and every stupid decision he’s made in the last three months as he steps into his pajama pants. Or are they Cas’s pants? Dean doesn’t even know anymore. Every aspect of their lives is so intertwined, so completely cohesive that Dean doesn’t even know who he is without him.

And Cas doesn’t know if he wants to marry him.

He can’t fucking  _believe_ he put himself out there like a fucking fool in front of everybody he loves and Cas didn’t say yes. He never thought Cas would do that to him. He never even entertained the idea that Cas might not say yes. He can’t believe this. His chest feels like there’s a giant hole inside of it and he doesn’t know if it’s ever going to go away. Even if Cas walked right back in here right now and said he was sorry and begged for his ring on his finger, Dean’s always going to remember the way his heart cracked into a million pieces when the first word out of Castiel’s mouth wasn’t  _yes_. Can they even fix this? Does Cas even really want to? Does he even want to be here anymore? Dean snorts bitterly when he realizes he probably doesn’t. But what other option does he have, really? It’s not like Cas would ever just leave him and his family on Christmas Eve, even if he didn’t want to be here. He’s too good of a guy for that.

Which means Cas is probably going to break up with him as soon as they leave.

He suddenly feels really, really warm and he realizes he’s going to throw up.

He whips the door open to run to the bathroom and runs right into Castiel standing outside the bedroom door.

“Dean, are you alright?” Castiel asks, clearly concerned.

He feels immediately better just seeing Cas again. And because Dean’s a fucking idiot who keeps making the worst decisions he possibly can, he launches himself at Cas. He wraps his arms around his neck and drags his head down to meet his lips. He kisses him with a desperation he didn’t even know he possessed. Castiel is stiff in his arms at first, but then he sinks into the kiss, kissing him back with equal fervor and walking him back into the bedroom as they continue to kiss.

Castiel kicks the door closed behind them, and then Dean has him pressed up against it while he kisses the breath out of him. Castiel lets himself have this for just a minute. He lets Dean take whatever comfort he needs from him, and returns his kiss with as much passion as he can. When Castiel feels Dean growing hard against him, he slows the kiss down, turning it from hard and demanding to soft and sweet, and then Dean wrenches their lips apart with a gasp.

“I want you to fuck me,” Dean says.

“Dean, please,” Castiel says softly. “Not like this.”

Dean slots his thigh between Castiel’s legs and rubs against him, and Castiel’s body reacts automatically. “I know you want me, Cas. I can feel you gettin’ hard for me. Take me. Make me stop thinking. Make me feel like you - like you still love me.” Dean knows he’s never sounded so pathetic in his whole life.

Castiel puts his hands on Dean’s hips and holds him still. He leans forwards and rests their foreheads together. “I do love you. I love you with every single part of me. I have never loved anybody or anything as much as I love you, and I will love only you for the rest of my life,” he tells him. “Let me change into my pajamas and we can just be close to one another, okay?”

Dean feels the additional rejection like a knife through the heart. Has Cas ever, one single time,  _ever_ said no to him after he made a move? Not before tonight. So this proves it then. Cas doesn’t want him anymore. Cas doesn’t know if he wants to marry him. And Cas obviously doesn’t love him as much as he loves Cas.

Cas is going to break up with him tomorrow the minute they get away from his family.

Dean climbs into the tiny single bed and makes himself as small as he possibly can, hoping if he can curl up small enough that maybe he’ll just disappear and he won’t have to pretend like he doesn’t know what he’s about to become without Cas.

Nothing.

He’s nothing without him.

Castiel flicks off the light and climbs into bed behind Dean. He wraps his arm around his stomach and curls up to him the best he can, planting a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. He twines their fingers together and that’s when he realizes that Dean’s shaking from head to foot.

“C’mere,” he says softly, pulling Dean so that he turns to face him. Dean buries his face in Castiel’s chest, and Castiel holds him as tight as he possibly can. He presses dozens of kisses into Dean’s hair, and shoulders, and neck, but still, Dean doesn’t stop trembling. “Are you cold?” Castiel asks belatedly.

“No,” Dean answers honestly. He doesn’t feel anything. All he can concentrate on is every press of Castiel’s lips against his skin, wondering if this is it. Is this the last one? The last time Cas will ever kiss his skin? The last time they’ll ever share a bed? The last time Cas will ever hold him like this? Have they already shared their last kiss? Did they make love for the last time? Dean can’t bear the thought. If he knew he would have done things so differently. They deserved so much better than Dean bent over the arm of the couch for their last time. They were so much more than that. He can’t believe he’ll never have more than that with Cas again. “Cas,” Dean gasps, voice breaking.

“I’m here, Dean,” Castiel answers immediately, trying and failing to pull him impossibly closer. “I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere. I love you so much. I’m so sorry you’re hurting. I’m so sorry. I love you,” he insists.

 _Not enough_ is Dean’s answer inside his head. Not nearly fucking enough.

“Do you want to try and talk now? I know it’s late, but maybe...” Castiel offers.

Dean is already shaking his head. “I - I can’t right now.”

“Okay. It will be better in the morning,” Castiel soothes him. “You’ll see. We’ll wake up and spend the morning with your family. They’ll make you forget about all this for a while. We’ll have a good time, open presents, eat way too much turkey, and then once we get home we’ll both feel better and be able to talk through this. I’ll explain to you what I’m thinking, and we’ll fix it together. Like we always do. By this time on Boxing Day we’ll be celebrating our engagement. Your ring will be on my finger, and we’ll be drinking champagne with everybody we love, and all of this will just be a bump in the road. I promise you, Dean. We’re going to work this out.”

Dean can’t even bring himself to believe him. He believed him already when he told him he loved him. He believed him when Cas told him he’d _always_ love him. He even said the same thing back to him. And look what it got him.

Still, he hears himself whisper, “I don’t wanna fall asleep.” Every other thing he wants to say is only said in his mind.  _I don’t want to fall asleep knowing that I’m never going to have this again. I don’t want to waste my last hours with you holding me when I’m asleep. I don’t want to forget what it sounds like when you’re sleeping behind me. I don’t want to forget how it feels to be in your arms._

“I’ll hold you. All night,” Castiel promises. “I love you.”

All Dean can do is nod.

He thinks back on all the times Cas has said those words, and all the times Dean couldn’t say them back, and all at once he hates himself viscously for every single time he had the chance to say it and never did. If only he could go back. If he had just told Cas, if he could have stopped being such a fucking pussy for once in his damn life, maybe Cas would’ve said yes.

Suddenly all of his shortcomings as Cas’s boyfriend are crystal clear. He thinks back to all the times Castiel’s face fell when he didn’t say _I love you, too_. About all the sad smiles he got from Cas when he said, “Me too,” instead of, “Love you too.” How fucking hard would it have been to just say what he felt? He remembers in startling detail how devastated Castiel was and how his hands shook when he read that stupid fucking coupon he made him.  _I’ll tell you I love you out loud._ How Dean thought for a single fucking second that Castiel would be happy, would be _thankful_ that he needed a coupon to get his boyfriend of more than a year to say he loves him out loud he will never know.

Fuck, he’s stupid. He’s lucky Cas didn’t dump his ass right then and there. No wonder Cas is going to break up with him tomorrow. As soon as he can.

If he hadn’t been so clueless, so selfish, so utterly fucked up, maybe they’d be laughing and kissing and trying to stay quiet while they made love in this tiny little bed tonight instead of Dean thinking about all of the ways he fucked up over and over.

He’s so unbelievably screwed up that he’s letting the one person he’s ever loved slip through his fingers because he can never seem to man up enough to say those three little words. And what’s worse than all of that is  _even_   _knowing_  the truth of this revelation in the eleventh hour of their relationship, Dean can still hardly force the words out.

Cas deserves so much better than him.

So he takes a deep, shuddering breath, squeezes his eyes closed tight and says the three words that are harder than any he’s ever said before. Because he knows -  _he knows with everything that he is_ \- that he isn’t going to be there to say it again tomorrow night. “I love you,” Dean chokes out. “I love you, Cas.” He swallows down the bile in his throat and says it one more time. “Castiel… I love you so much, baby.”

And with that, the first tear spills over, because he knows he’s never going to say it again.

“Dean,” Castiel breathes, and Dean can hear that his voice is broken, too. “I love you, too. So very, very much. You don’t know how much.”

Dean doesn’t know how long they lay there, just clinging to each other. Castiel doesn’t say anything else and Dean doesn’t either. Eventually, Cas’s hands relax on Dean’s back as he drifts off into sleep. Dean waits to make sure he’s really out, and then backs away as much as he can so he can catalogue every detail of his face in the dark for the last time. He cries silently, not wanting to wake up Cas, only gasping for breath when he needs it.

He focuses on the curl of his eyelashes resting against his cheek. He looks down at those always dry-looking pink lips of his, and tries to remember every single kiss they’ve ever shared. The first time, when Dean could hardly even breathe for wanting him. The last time when he had Cas pressed up against the door of this bedroom, still wanting him just as much as he did that very first day. And all the times in between. All the kisses in the dark, the first thing in the morning kisses, the kisses where they swallowed each other's moans, and all the times Castiel kissed him to get him to stop when he was mid-way through saying something stupid. He drags his eyes along the hard line of his jaw, and takes in how the single day’s worth of stubble is already dark and rough. He traces it with his thumb gently, slowly, needing to remember the feel of it against his skin. He smooths the crease between his brows, and wonders how he doesn’t know if Cas always looks like this in his sleep or if he’s only looking so confused because of what happened tonight. He kisses the crease softly, and more tears fall silently when he sees it disappear almost instantly.

He’s going to miss him so damn much.

He cries more than he’s cried in his entire life. He cries for everything they’ve had together, everything he’s giving up, and everything he knows he’ll never have again. He cries until his throat is burning, and he doesn’t have any tears left and all he feels is empty. Empty in a way he’ll stay for the rest of his life without everything Castiel is to fill him up.

Because Dean has come to a devastating conclusion now: Castiel deserves so much better than a boyfriend who can’t tell him how loved he is. He deserves a boyfriend who isn’t afraid to touch him no matter where they are. He deserves a boyfriend who doesn’t make him lock himself in the bathroom on his birthday. He deserves a boyfriend who’s so much better than a guy who barely graduated high school and works at a bar for a living. Castiel deserves somebody so much better than Dean, and even though Dean knows he’s never going to find anybody who will ever compare to Cas, Cas deserves a chance at real happiness. Dean might not be able to say the words out loud, but he loves Cas, and he loves him enough to know he deserves better. And so he spends his last night with him lightly tracing his fingers over every inch of Cas’s exposed skin, shushing Cas and pressing kisses into his hair every time he stirs, promising himself that he’ll remember every second of their last night together for as long as he lives.

When Sam bangs on their bedroom door the next morning, Dean hasn’t slept a single second. He takes one last look at Castiel asleep beside him, willing the image to burn into his mind - this is a last time  _he knows_ is the last time and he’s going to damn well remember it - before he shakes him awake and tells him it’s Christmas morning.

Castiel opens his eyes and is absolutely shocked at Dean’s appearance. He looks like death, and Castiel isn’t exaggerating. He’s pale, he’s  _still_ trembling, and his eyes are absolutely bloodshot. The bags under his eyes are so deep he looks like he has black eyes.

“Dean, honey, you look -“ Castiel begins.

“It’s Christmas morning, Cas!” Dean exclaims, and though his voice sounds excited, his face tells another story entirely. “Come on! Sammy’s up and waiting for us. Let’s go open our presents!”

“Dean, you’re still shaking,” Castiel tells him.

Dean looks down at his hands and sees that Cas is right. He  _is_ shaking. He remembers Cas’s question about being cold last night and lies, “I’m just cold.” He grabs a t-shirt to pull over his head, and then a hoodie and then he pastes the biggest, most convincing smile on his face that he possibly can and wiggles his eyebrows before he runs down the stairs after his brother. He can fake this.

Christmas Day is terrible for Castiel. He wouldn’t have thought it was at all possible, but it’s even worse than last night. Dean tries his hardest to put on a good front, but he isn’t convincing anybody. Every time Dean looks away, worried glances are exchanged between his family. Castiel feels eyes settle on him accusingly several times throughout the day, and he can’t even blame them. Dean looks like he’s seconds away from literally shattering into pieces and Castiel did that to him. If somebody caused a member of his family the amount of pain Dean seems to be in, he would glare at them, too.

Dean has never had a worse Christmas Day in his entire life, even counting the first Christmas without his parents. At least then it was acceptable to feel like shit. Now he has to try and pretend like he doesn’t. He fakes his way through the day the best he can, but there’s a definite sense of relief inside of him when he and Cas walk out to the Impala after Christmas dinner. He can almost stop pretending to be okay.

Castiel reaches for Dean’s hand the way he always does once they get his the car, and Dean grips it like a lifeline. In just a few more minutes they can sit down and talk about what Castiel is feeling, and he  _knows_ they can do better. He knows they can work this out and be happy together again. He’ll do anything humanly possible to never make Dean look like this again.

Dean pulls into Castiel’s driveway and they both get out of the car. They load up their arms with Castiel’s gifts, leftovers from dinner from both tonight and last night, and more desserts than he and Dean will ever be able eat before they go bad. Castiel manages to get the front door open, and they drop everything right there in the hallway.

“I say we leave it all here until tomorrow,” Castiel says with a small smile on his face.

Dean physically hurts inside knowing he’s about to walk away from Cas and that smile of his forever. Damn he loves that smile. “Listen, I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I still got a shitload of stuff to put away back at my place, so I’m just gonna head home for tonight,” Dean tells him, his voice surprisingly steady.

“I’ll come with you,” Castiel offers, walking back past all of his stuff and reaching Dean’s side in a few quick strides.

“No, uh, not tonight,” Dean says quickly. “I think we could both use a little time, you know. To think everything over.”

Cas tilts his head to the side like he’s confused and Dean just about starts crying again right that very second. The fucking head tilt. He’s going to miss that so much. So, he looks away.

“I - I don’t understand,” Castiel replies. “I don’t have anything to think over. I just have some things I need to explain to you that I haven’t done a very good job of verbalizing in the past. I - I can’t do that if you’re at your place and I’m at mine,” he says.

“Tomorrow then,” Dean lies, and hates himself for it.

Castiel can see the lie. It’s in the way his shoulders are too stiff, the way he’s clenching his jaw, and how Dean can’t meet his eyes. But Cas doesn’t understand it. “I don’t want to wait until tomorrow. I didn’t even want to wait this long. Please, Dean, let’s figure this out tonight so we can be happy by this time tomorrow,” Castiel tries to convince him.

“I can’t tonight,” Dean repeats. “I just need to be alone.”

Castiel tries to get his attention. He needs him to look at him, “Dean?” Dean finally looks up to meet his eyes and Castiel is shocked to see how completely  _empty_ they are. There’s nothing there at all. Why does he look like that? What is he trying to hide? “Don’t go like this,” he begs. “Let’s talk first. Give me an hour.” Dean just shakes his head in response. He seems to waver for a second, and then he takes one step towards him and pulls Castiel in for a bone crunching hug.

This is it. This is the last time he’s ever going to hold Cas. Dean holds him like he never wants to let him go, which is partially true. He takes a deep breath and inhales the way Cas smells - his favorite scent - and vows to commit it to memory. He runs his hands through the back of Castiel’s hair just to feel it between his fingers one more time, and then pulls away to press a single, chaste kiss on his lips. He looks into the too-blue eyes he fell in love with, and sees heartbreak there, but reminds himself he’s only doing this to give Castiel what he deserves. Castiel will thank him someday, he’s sure of it.

Castiel feels like there is something very, very wrong. His insides are screaming it at him. This feels like goodbye. It feels like goodbye and it’s so, so wrong. This isn’t what he wants. This isn’t what he wants  _at all._ “P-promise me I’m going to see you tomorrow,” Castiel chokes out, digging his fingers into Dean’s elbows. He doesn’t want to let him go.

Dean brushes his thumb across Cas’s cheekbone and lies to him one last time. “‘Course I’m gonna see you tomorrow, baby. I’ll text you when I’m up.” The endearment feels like acid in his mouth, and he’s afraid he’s going to throw up again.

Dean answered him so easily, like Castiel thinking he wouldn’t see him tomorrow is absolute insanity, and Castiel feels relief rush through him as he takes him at his word. He nods. “Okay, yeah. Of course. I guess I’m just being paranoid,” he laughs dryly. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I love you.”

Dean gives Castiel one more smile, and then he does the hardest thing he’s ever done in his entire life, and he walks away from the only person he’s ever really loved.


	10. Chapter 10

**CASTIEL:** I hope you sleep better than you did last night. Feels weird to be sleeping alone knowing you’re not coming to join me later :( I love you. See you tomorrow <3

 **CASTIEL:** Hello, Dean. I figure you’re probably not still in bed since it’s after noon now. Can we get together to talk?

**_This is Dean Winchester. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can._ **

_Dean, it’s Castiel. Why aren’t you answering my texts? Is everything okay? I’m worried about you. Please let me know that you’re okay. I’ll give you more space if that’s what you need, just please let me know that everything’s alright. I love you._

**CASTIEL:** Did you forget to charge your phone? It’s almost nine o’clock now. I’m probably pretty stupid for thinking it’s something like that, huh? Don’t do this. Don’t run away from me. We can fix this. I love you. You have to know that I love you.

 **CASTIEL:** I guess you needed more than one night. That’s okay. I understand. I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m here whenever you need me, night or day. I love you.

**CASTIEL:** I know you probably hate me, but can you please tell me if you’ve heard from Dean at all today? He won’t return any of my messages or calls.

 **SAM:** That’s none of your business

 **CASTIEL:** I just want to know that he’s not in any danger

 **SAM:** He’s… safe.

 **CASTIEL:** What can I do?

 **SAM:** Honestly? I have no idea. Give him some time. You broke his heart.

 **CASTIEL:**  I didn’t mean to. I told him I want to fix it!

 **SAM:** I can’t help you with that. I’m really sorry. Good luck, Cas.

Dean can try and shut him out all he wants. Castiel’s too stubborn to give up on the man he loves that easily. It’s December 28th, and Dean opened The Roadhouse again yesterday, so he waits until he knows he’ll be working his night shift and goes to confront him at the bar.

He walks in and scans the bar for Dean, but he doesn’t see him.

He sees Jo, who by all appearances is trying to kill him with a single look. He doesn’t care about that, though. “Is Dean here?” Castiel asks her as he approaches the bar.

“No,” Jo spits at him. “He had to take a few days off.”

“Where is he?” Castiel asks.

“I don’t really think that’s any of your business anymore, you know that?” Jo answers.

“Jo, please. I know you don’t like me, but you have to know I love him,” Castiel tries.

“Yeah, you love him so much you shot him down in front of his entire family on Christmas Eve.”

“You don’t understand,” Castiel says sadly.

“Yeah, neither do you. Dean doesn’t want to see you, okay? So go away.”

He squares his shoulders. “You can be as rude to me as you want. It’s not any different than how you’ve been treating me every day for the last two years anyway, and I’m  _still_ not going to let you intimidate me to stay away from him. I’ll never give up on him.”

She quirks a brow, and for the first time ever, Cas thinks he might see something like respect in her eyes. “I guess we’ll see which one of you is more stubborn then, won’t we.”

He walks out of the bar in a fit of rage and drives to Dean’s apartment. He sees Dean’s car in the parking lot and lets out a sigh of relief. Sure, Dean might not want to see him right now, but unfortunately for Dean, he gave him a key to his apartment. So if he has to walk up the stairs and let himself into his apartment, then that’s what he’ll do. Dean can’t just never talk to him again. No. Castiel refuses. They can still work this out.

So he finds himself in front of Dean’s door, knocking.

He hears footsteps approach the door slowly, and they sound like they’re a little off balance. He startles when something hits the door with a thump from the inside, and he assumes Dean’s looking through the peephole. Then, as clear as day, he hears the footsteps retreat.

Castiel knocks again, but he knows now that Dean isn’t going to answer, and it’s every one of his worst fears realized.

“Dean, stop it. Let me in, please,” Castiel calls out, voice cracking with emotion. No response. “I just want to know that you’re okay!” Castiel tries again. Still nothing. “Fine,” he mutters to himself. He digs the key out of his pocket and fits it in the lock. He turns the key and pushes the door open - but Dean has it bolted from the inside. “Fuck,” he curses. He bangs on the door harder. “Open the damn door!” he yells.

He can’t  _believe_ Dean is acting like this. The hurt inside of him turns to anger in a blink of an eye.

Fine. If he wants to be a stubborn asshole, Castiel can be just as stubborn.

“Fine. You have to leave sometime. I’ll sit here and wait for however long it takes,” he says loudly enough that he’s sure Dean can hear him.

The next thing he hears is music blaring in Dean’s apartment.

“Asshole,” Castiel curses, but he slides down the door to his knees and then sits on the floor anyway. He pulls out his phone.

 **CASTIEL:** I’m not leaving until we talk. I’ll sit here for days. I don’t care. I’m not letting you go when I know you still love me. I love you, you stubborn dick, and I know we can work this out if you just LET ME IN!

Castiel sits there for four hours, going back and forth between crying and pounding on Dean’s door, until Dean’s landlord comes walking up the stairs and sees him sitting there.

He arches a brow at Castiel. “Trouble in paradise?” he asks in his deep, gruff, British accent.

“I suppose you could say that,” Castiel answers.

“I’m sure lover boy gave you a key, yes?”

Castiel nods. “He bolted it from the inside. I don’t have a key for that part.”

The landlord considers him. “I appreciate what you’re doing, really. But I can’t let you stay out here. Technically speaking, I should be calling the police since you’re not on the lease and you’re loitering, but I don’t want to have to do that.”

“Please,” Castiel begs him. “I  _need_ to talk to him. I won’t disturb anybody. You know I don’t mean any harm.”

The landlord looks up and down the hallway and says, “I can’t let you stay out here. When I’m in the building, it’s my job to make sure my tenants stay safe, and that beefcake of yours has been an excellent tenant for years. I’m sorry to say you’re going to have to leave. Don’t make me call the cops. Bad for business, you know.”

Castiel hangs his head in defeat and gets to his feet slowly, wincing at the ache in his back. “I’m sorry for causing you any trouble,” he says miserably as he walks away.

“Have any plans for the rest of the holidays?” the landlord asks him.

Castiel furrows his brow. “Um, no. No plans,” he answers awkwardly.  _Not anymore._

“I’m going to spend the day at my son’s tomorrow,” the landlord says in response.

Why this man thinks he’d give a flying fuck about his plans tomorrow when his heart is breaking into a million pieces is beyond Castiel. He gives a nod and keeps walking away.

“Like I said, it’s my job to keep my tenants safe when I’m in the building,” the landlord repeats slowly.

Castiel stops dead in his tracks.

“And you won’t be here tomorrow,” he realizes.

“Going to my son’s,” he confirms. Then he raises his eyebrows and flashes him a small smile before he continues down the hall.

 **CASTIEL:** Your landlord made me leave, but I’ll be back tomorrow and every day after that until you talk to me. I’m not giving up on you. I’m not giving up on us. I love you and I know you love me too. We can work this out. Please don’t give up on me. I need you. I love you so much.

When Castiel goes back to Dean’s house the next day, his car isn’t in the parking lot. He goes and knocks anyway, but there’s no answer. He debates for a long time if he should try the key, knowing that the bolt won’t be locked if Dean’s not there, and wanting to get a peek inside. But he ultimately decides not to. Dean trusted him with this key and he’s not about to violate that trust.

He goes and sits in his car, running the engine every now and then so he doesn’t freeze to death, but he finally gives up at eight o’clock. He’s freezing, he’s hungry, and he  _really_ has to use the bathroom. He sat there for six hours tonight, and a part of him feels like a stalker. But he still can’t believe Dean is treating him like this.

The next day is much of the same. He calls, he texts, he checks at The Roadhouse, and he knocks on Dean’s door again and sits in his car to wait for Dean to come out again until the landlord knocks on his window and crosses his arms at him. Castiel drives away with a heavy heart, having no idea what else he can do.

Perhaps the worst part of all this sitting around and waiting is how much time he’s had to think everything over. He made such a terrible mistake not saying yes to Dean when he proposed, and he wishes more than anything he could go back and change it.

He should have said yes.

He should have said yes, and celebrated with Dean and his family, and had a wonderful Christmas together,  _and then_ sat him down afterwards to have a discussion about the things that he needed from him before they got married.

Why didn’t he do that?

Now Dean won’t even talk to him and he has no way to make it right.

He has no idea where to go from here.

On December 30th, his heart tumbles in his chest when he hears a car pull into his driveway. He knows it isn’t Dean’s car, because the engine doesn’t sound like Baby at all, but maybe it’s somebody who’s coming to help him.

He goes to the door eagerly, and opens it to see Jess standing there with a bottle of wine in her hands.

“Jess,” he gasps, filled with gratitude for her presence.

“Can I come in?” she asks nervously.

Castiel nods and backs out of the doorway so she can step inside his home.

He stands there stupidly while she kicks off her shoes and then goes into his kitchen to grab a couple of wine glasses from the cupboard. Then she goes into his living room and sits down on the couch - the couch where Cas and Dean have had sex so many times he can barely even look at it - and he finally comes back to himself enough to join her. He sits on the recliner, though.

She pours them each a glass of wine and then slides Castiel’s to him across the coffee table.

Castiel can’t even drink it yet, he’s too desperate for news about Dean. So he blurts it out. “Is he okay? Have you seen him? Why won’t he talk to me?”

She sighs heavily and says, “He’s… not okay. He’s been drunk pretty much around the clock.”

Castiel didn’t think there was anything left of his heart to shatter, but apparently he was wrong. Because it hurts all over again.

“He won’t talk to me,” he tries to explain. “I called, I texted, I went to The Roadhouse, sat outside his apartment. I don’t know what to do. I want to marry him. I was so stupid. I love him. I don’t want to lose him. I  _can’t_ lose him. I should have said yes, but -”

“Castiel? Sweetie, take a breath,” she says calmly. “Actually, take a breath, and then take a big ole drink of my favorite wine, okay?”

Castiel nods. He does as she says, takes a deep breath, and a big gulp of the wine from the glass. He feels some of his nerves settle and smiles in thanks in her direction.

“Now, tell me what happened after you two went upstairs Christmas Eve and how you two ended up like this. Dean won’t tell anybody what happened. All he keeps saying is that you deserve better than him, and none of us know how to help if he won’t talk about it,” she tells him.

Castiel is floored by Dean saying that he deserves better. When did he start thinking like that? Six days ago he wanted to marry him, and now he thinks Castiel deserves better? It doesn’t make any sense.

So, Castiel does the only thing he can do, and he talks. He talks about his feelings and all the ways he felt like Dean was letting him down for the first time since they got together. He tells Jess about how much he loves Dean, and how despite the ways he felt unfulfilled that he still wishes he had said yes, and how badly he wants to marry Dean and just fix things between them. He cries as they drink their way through the bottle of wine. Sometimes, she cries with him, and they both somehow end up on the couch, with Jess holding his hand and Castiel clinging to it like he knows he’ll never feel another human touch in his lifetime.

“This is all such a mess,” she says when Castiel is finally done talking. “If the two of you had just talked to one another like adults instead of pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t none of this would have happened.”

“I know,” Castiel replies, ashamed. “I was just so happy with whatever I could get from him, I took it and shoved down my own feelings. It was stupid and immature, and now it’s too late and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“But you really do want to fix it?” Jess asks.

“More than anything. You - you have to know how much I love him. I want to marry him. I just need to get him to talk to me so I can explain.”

She’s quiet for a few minutes, and she chews on her bottom lip while she seems to think something over. Finally, she says, “You didn’t hear this from me, okay?”

Castiel nods, eager for whatever she’s going to tell him.

“I’m only telling you this because I believe you. I know that you love him, and I know that he loves you. I’ve never seen him as happy as he was with you, and I think you two boneheads deserve a second chance.” Castiel blinks away fresh tears, impatient with them, wanting to hear what Jess is about to tell him. “Sam convinced Dean that he needs to work tomorrow night because the bar will be too busy without him. It’s really just a ploy to get him out of the house and back at work, but that isn’t important. He’ll be at The Roadhouse tomorrow night. I don’t know if you can get him to talk to you, but I know he’ll be there. Maybe if you show up and manage to tell him or show him somehow that you  _do_ want to get married before he decides not to talk to you, you  _might_ get a word in before he takes off again.”

“He’s working tomorrow night?” Castiel repeats, and Jess nods.

“Like I said, I can’t guarantee he’ll talk to you, but it’s gotta be better than waiting outside in your car for another few days, right?” she smiles at him.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Jess,” Castiel tells her, and probably because of the wine, he reaches out to her and wraps his arms around her in a tight hug.

She lets him hold on for probably longer than is socially appropriate, but he feels better when he lets go, and he silently hopes he didn’t cross a line.

“I have to get going. Sam doesn’t know I’m here, and I’m going to have some major sucking up to do after I tell him,” she smiles guiltily as she gets to her feet.

“I hope I don’t cause any trouble between you,” Castiel tells her honestly.

“Oh, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. He’s just very protective of Dean.” She slips her shoes back on at the door and says, “I think you and Dean are better together, and that’s why I came. I’ll be thinking about you tomorrow night. Good luck, Castiel. I really hope you can fix this.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

She gives him a bright smile, makes him promise to stay in touch, and then she’s gone just as quickly as she came. The only difference is that now Castiel has the chance to make a plan.

Castiel doesn’t know the last time he put this much care or time into his physical appearance. He has already painstakingly gone through his closet (trying not to get upset when he sees as many items of Dean’s in there as his own), and has decided on his wardrobe based solely upon what he remembers Dean complimenting him in the most.

And so he’s dressed in a dark pair of tight but still comfortable jeans that manage to hug both his ass and his thighs in the most flattering way possible, a plain white dress shirt, and a solid blue tie. Dean always compliments him when he wears his work clothes, and he thinks Dean will really appreciate the mixture of the jeans and the dress shirt and tie.

Dean loves it when his hair is messy, so he runs his hands through it deliberately to mess it up, and while he thinks it looks like he just had sex ( _... now he gets it_ ) he knows it’s the way Dean prefers it. So he leaves it.

He grabs the big bouquet of red roses he bought for Dean earlier, throws on his trench coat to keep him warm on the way over, and begins the short walk to The Roadhouse.

He gets there two minutes early, and he knows that because he can see the big clock on the television screens inside ticking down the seconds. He wants to do this right at midnight. He has never been more nervous or more scared in his entire life. His hands are shaking, his palms are sweaty and he knows that the rest of his life lays in the outcome of the next few minutes. It’s terrifying. When there’s less than a minute left, he takes a deep, calming breath, and pulls the door open. He scans the room and his eyes fall upon Dean behind the bar.

Just  _seeing_ Dean for the first time in almost a week is enough to make his heart start racing. How could he have forgotten how insanely attracted to him he is? Dean looks up and their eyes lock. Castiel can’t make out an expression in them from here, but he knows without a doubt that Dean saw him.

A waitress he doesn’t recognize walks past him with a tray of drinks, and he loses sight of Dean for just a second. He sees there’s less than thirty seconds left for him to cross the room to get to Dean, so he puts his head down and starts walking.

Jo gets in his way, but he doesn’t stop to listen to her. She’s barking at him, telling him that Dean doesn’t want him here, but he pushes past her as politely as he can when he hears the people in the bar start counting down.  _10... 9... 8…_

He looks up and Dean isn’t behind the bar anymore.  _7… 6…_

He whirls around blindly, the roses knock into Jo again, and he’s wondering if Dean got past him somehow when he sees him walking around the bar to deliver a shot to a woman with long blonde hair seated at the bar where he usually sits.  _5… 4… 3…._

Castiel starts towards him and he’s only a few feet away when he sees the woman with the blonde hair shake the hair out of her face and turn her face up towards Dean.

_2… 1… Happy New Year!_

Castiel watches in disbelief as the blonde woman puts a hand around Dean’s neck and presses her lips to Dean’s. His heart drops to the floor faster than the roses in his hand.

Castiel tears his eyes away, knowing that he can’t possibly handle seeing any more.

Dean is kissing a woman.

Dean is kissing somebody that isn’t him.

Pain and hurt and shock radiate through him with every beat of his heart.

Castiel came here to tell him that he’s sorry, that he loves him, and that he wants to marry him even  _after_ Dean completely shut him out for the last week, and now Dean is kissing somebody else.

Dean doesn’t want him anymore.

Dean wants to be with a random woman at the bar more than he wants to work things out with Castiel.

Dean doesn’t love him.

The thought barely even makes sense in his mind.

Dean doesn’t love him?

Oh god.

He’s going to be sick.

Everything hurts.

He can’t catch his breath.

He can’t even see.

Somehow, Castiel is already pushing his way back towards the door, needing to get the hell away from Dean, and that woman, and all of the memories in this stupid fucking bar before Dean can see the way he’s broken his heart into a million tiny pieces.

Not that he would care.

A sob escapes him as he forces himself through the door and into the cold air, blinking away his tears as he stumbles his way home.

He never even considered that Dean would move on with somebody else. Hell, he didn’t even know they were broken up. Not officially. He had so much hope going to see him tonight, thinking that he’d finally be able to be with Dean again where he always felt like he belonged, and instead, Dean would rather be with somebody else. Unless… no. Dean couldn’t have been with her… before? While they were still together?

… no. He can’t even entertain the idea.

Everything hurts so badly.

He had thought he couldn’t possibly hurt more than he’s been hurting for the last week without Dean, but he was so incredibly, naive. Seeing Dean kissing somebody else because he was never enough is his worst nightmare.

He can never unsee that.

It’s playing it in a loop in his head over and over, and he wishes more than anything that he had never gone to The Roadhouse tonight. He feels like every memory he has of Dean is tainted with the image of that kiss.

It takes him several tries to grip his doorknob tight enough to turn it, and he realizes that he’s shaking. He immediately thinks of the way Dean was shaking Christmas Eve and wonders if this is how he felt when Castiel turned him down. Did it hurt this much?

Right now he’s angry enough that he hopes it did.

He stumbles his way to the bedroom, falls face first onto his mattress, and cries himself to sleep on his own side of the bed for the first time since Christmas Eve. He doesn’t want to smell Dean’s lingering scent. Not tonight.

Castiel spends his first day of 2015 drowning his misery in a bottle of whisky. He wonders vaguely if Dean would be proud of the influence he’s had on him.

Then he remembers Dean doesn’t care about him anymore. If he ever did.

Everywhere he looks in his house reminds him of Dean. The memory of Dean fills his home like a ghost.

He can’t have a shower without seeing Dean pinned against the tile. The sound of his name on Dean’s lips echoes off of the walls. Dean’s body wash and the almost empty bottle of lube sitting side by side haunts him.

He can’t go in the kitchen without seeing Dean standing at his stove, or thinking about him flicking water at him off of his soapy hands while he washes the dishes. The hundreds of times Dean’s wrapped his arms around him in this room is impossible to try to ignore.

There isn’t a single room they didn’t have sex in.

Dean’s Pepsi is in the fridge next to his beer.

Downstairs, Dean’s clothes are still mixed in with his in the washer and dryer.

He feels Dean’s absence in the living room like a missing limb.

His couch feels too big.

Every show he has any interest in watching on TV is something he used to watch with Dean.

He can’t lose himself in a book without forgetting not to wonder when Dean’s going to come demand his attention again.

It’s no wonder he needs the whisky.

He notices it’s dark outside.

He’s been drinking just enough to stay drunk all day long.

He wonders if Dean’s as miserable as he is and hates himself for thinking about him at all.

He lets himself grieve again on Saturday.

He doesn’t shower.

Doesn’t eat.

Drinks the rest of the whisky and still can’t let go of the bottle.

It used to belong to Dean. Just like him.

 

He forces himself to shower on Sunday. He pretends his tears don’t mix with the water running over his face. He only cries more when he sees Dean’s toothbrush sitting in the holder beside his, and then again when he remembers Dean’s the one who installed this faucet.

He buys groceries and has to stop himself from adding the things to his cart that he only ever bought because of Dean.

He cries in the middle of the grocery store.

He eats a bagged salad for dinner and then throws it up when he realizes he forgot about garbage day on Friday. He’s never once put the garbage out while he lived here. Even before they got together, Dean always took care of the garbage.

How can he do this without him? 

 

He goes back to work on Monday, and he barely manages to keep it together when he sees the picture of him and Dean sitting on his desk. He shoves it into his drawer and tries not to be sick again. He makes it through the day, though. Barely.

Tuesday at work is better. But he forgets for a split second that Dean’s car won’t be parked in the driveway when he gets home, and he cries when he walks into his empty house.

Survivor comes back on Wednesday, and he cries through the entire episode.

He finds himself looking out his front window at The Roadhouse a lot. More often than he should, especially considering he can’t see anything from here but the back of the building. Nobody’s ever out there, but he checks several times a night anyway.

He breaks for the first time ten days after New Year’s Eve and calls Dean.

His call goes directly to voicemail.

He doesn’t leave a message.

He doesn’t know what to say.

He tries not to think about how he and Dean met in January.

He calls in sick on January 15th, and takes another drink of whisky every time he thinks about how it was only a year ago that Dean told him he loved him for the first time.

He gets so drunk he thinks it’s a good idea to masturbate without an audience for the first time in more than a year and a half. He thinks of Dean, and there’s tears streaming down his face even as he comes all over himself.

He retches immediately afterwards and falls asleep absolutely disgusted with himself.

Every day he comes home he tries not to think about how he’s walking up the steps Dean fixed.

He’s opening the door Dean got to close.

He’s walking on the floors Dean fixed.

Today’s a bad day.

He’s sitting on the floor in the corner of the living room and the only sound in the house the steady beating of his heart.

Everywhere he looks is Dean _._

The paint color. The carpet. The windows.

_Dean. Dean. Dean._

He can’t keep doing this.

In the beginning of February, he contacts a real estate agent and puts his house up for sale.

He takes the first offer he gets even though he has no idea where he’s going to live, and ends up with $40,000 more than what he paid for the house two years ago. He knows it’s because of everything Dean did to fix up the house, and he feels like he stole the extra money he makes. He doesn’t deserve a penny of it.

As he starts packing up his stuff to move, he comes across a whole pile of things that belong to Dean. He puts his clothes, his toothbrush, his shoes, his leather jacket, and everything else he finds in a large box.

He keeps an old ratty tee shirt Dean used to sleep in when it was cold because it still smells like him and hopes Dean doesn’t notice.

He walks over to The Roadhouse on a Wednesday night when he knows Dean won’t be working with every intention of leaving the box with Jo or Ellen, but he never makes it through the parking lot.

He’s barely rounded the corner of the building when he sees Dean come out the door with a big, bear of a man trailing close behind him. The man slaps a hand down on his shoulder before it slides intimately down to the small of his back while Dean throws his head back and laughs at something he says.

Dean looks happy.

Castiel’s heart breaks all over again.

Castiel can’t tear his eyes away from the two of them. The dopey smile doesn’t leave Dean’s face as the two men get into Dean’s Impala, and he notices belatedly that the other man is driving Dean’s car.

 _He_ never even drove Dean’s car.

Dean looked happy.

Happier.

They’ve barely been apart a month, and Dean looks happier already.

He drops the box where he is in the parking lot and turns back to his house.

He knows he shouldn’t take it personally. Of course Dean was going to move on with somebody new. Castiel hurt Dean like nobody has hurt him before, and now Dean has moved on, and by all appearances, he’s happy.

Castiel’s the only one who can’t move on.

The next day he puts an offer in on a vacant house as far away from his old house, The Roadhouse,  _and_ Dean’s apartment that he can possibly get. He doesn’t want to see Dean with that man - or with anybody else - ever again.

In a drunken fit of anger in his new house, he blocks Dean’s number from his cell phone, deletes it from his contacts, and vows to get over him.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean knew it was gonna hurt, but he had no idea it was gonna hurt  _like this_.

He misses Cas every single day.

The only way he managed to get through the first few days when Castiel was texting, calling, and stopping by all the time was by drowning himself in whisky. He’s never been on such a bender in his life. But it was necessary. Anytime he didn’t drink he didn’t even want to be alive. He knows nothing will ever be as hard as it was to walk away from Castiel crying on the other side of his door.

He still loves him so much.

He tries not to think about that moment when he locked eyes with Cas at The Roadhouse for the first time after the longest six days of his entire life. He was drinking to get through the night, and somewhere along the way he got pissed off again.

He does that.

He goes back and forth between being so fucking pissed at Cas for turning him down he can hardly see straight, and then actually not being able to see through his tears when he thinks about how much he misses him.

 _God_ , he misses him.

He should’ve known Cas would be a stubborn son of a bitch about Dean walking away. He should’ve known that Cas would keep fighting and fighting to get his attention instead of just letting him go how he should’ve.

He had to take off to spend a night at Sammy’s place because he knew he wouldn’t be able to turn him away a second time. Sam did nothing but bitch about how drunk he was, and Dean drank more just so he didn’t have to feel anything when Sam looked at him like that. Sam managed to talk him into going to work on New Year’s Eve because his staff couldn’t handle it without him. If he’d been more sober he would’ve seen through the lie.

Goin’ to his bar that practically pulses with the memory of Cas sure as fuck wasn’t his greatest idea. He  _had_ to get drunk or he was just gonna start crying all over again. He was counting down the minutes until close from the second he walked through the doors.

Then he saw him.

He saw Cas come into The Roadhouse with a bouquet of roses in his hands (like that was going to fix anything!), and the only thing he wanted more than to throw himself at his feet and beg his forgiveness for the last week was to make him go away and never come back.

He knows it doesn’t make any sense. He’s fucked up. But he got his glimpse, he had a split second to think that Cas is a hundred times hotter than he remembers, and then he remembered how much better Cas deserves. So much better than what he could give him.

So he did the only thing he hadn’t already done to push him away and let the drunk chick across from him kiss him at midnight.

He thought he was going to barf the second their lips touched.

It was all wrong.

Her lips were too soft. Her face was too smooth. Her mouth was too small. He couldn't even make himself kiss her back.

She wasn’t Cas.

The thought had barely crossed his mind before he pulled away, filled with shame, disgust and regret. He had to find Cas. He had to explain what he just did didn’t mean anything. He didn’t even kiss her back! Cas would understand.

But when he looked around, he couldn’t see him. He checked every single table, he checked the bathrooms, and the only thing he found was the bouquet of roses on the floor.

So he definitely saw.

He saw, he thought Dean  _wanted_ to be with somebody else, and he left.

Dean barely made it to the bathroom again before he emptied his stomach.

He’s been a wreck ever since.

The worst part is sleeping alone.

After almost a year of sleeping with Cas beside him every night, his bed feels huge. He can’t get comfortable. He can’t fall asleep. Every time he closes his eyes all he can think about is how much he misses him. How badly he fucked up by letting hat woman kiss him. He thinks about everything he would do differently if he could, and he tosses and turns for hours before taking a few shots of whisky and finally passing out.

He wakes up every morning feeling just as bad as he did the night before.

Nothing helps.

Work doesn’t help. He can’t walk into his office without thinking about Cas on his knees in front of him. He can’t stop hoping to see Cas every time the bell jingles. He can’t stop looking out the small, filthy window in the back room over at Cas’s house, even though he can’t see anything but his car. His heart aches when he sees Cas’s bedroom light on way too late, and he wonders if Cas is having as much trouble sleeping as he is.

The thought doesn’t bring him any comfort.

After work, he gets halfway to Cas’s house after drinking too much during a night shift more times than he can count before he remembers he’s not supposed to go there anymore. He wonders what would happen if he just let himself in and walked up the stairs to curl up in Cas’s arms, and then he drives home drunk and downs a couple of shots with tears on his face before he can fall asleep. Cas deserves better.

He’s miserable.

His misery grows when he sees the For Sale sign in Castiel’s front yard. He and Cas put a lot of work into that house, and he’s fucking heartbroken to see it for sale. He briefly considers buying it. He could still fix up the exterior. It’d be damn convenient to be this close to work (and he knows that from experience now). But he figures he’d drown in memories there, and then he understands why Cas wants to sell it in the first place. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Sam ends up swinging by The Roadhouse a lot more frequently. Dean pretends he’s not there to babysit him, but when he drives the Impala home for Dean most nights and forces Dean to take a cab home at closing time, Dean’s glad. He’s been dumb enough to drive drunk.

He’s been dumb enough to lose Cas.

He knows it’s no coincidence when Benny shows up in February for the first time in two years. Somebody obviously called him and told him he needed a friend. He wishes Benny hadn’t seen him for the first time in a couple of years while he was doing his best to drink his way through all the liquor in his own bar on a Wednesday night, but he was happy to see him. For the first time in an entire month, he briefly felt something other than guilt, hurt, and despair.

But it doesn’t even last the night.

This time Benny drove his car home instead of Sam, and they got so drunk together that Dean cried on his shoulder about how much he misses Cas and how bad he fucked up.

Thankfully Benny knows to never mention it again.

When he goes to work the next day, more hung over than he’s ever been at work, he finds a box of his stuff that was left at Cas’s house, and when he looks across the street again he sees a moving truck.

Cas is leaving.

Cas is leaving and he won’t be able to look outside to make sure he put the garbage out this week. He won’t be able to check to make sure he’s home every night. He won’t be able to look over and see what time he finally turns the light out and goes to bed. He won’t be able to know that nobody else is visiting Cas’s house and sleeping in their bed.  _Cas’s_ bed.

He really has to let him go.

But it’s easier said than done. He gets into the habit of drinking every night. He can’t fall asleep without it. Weeks turn into months, and still, Dean can’t sleep without a couple of shots of whisky before bed. It’s the only company he has nowadays.

Lisa finally swings by the bar one night when he’s more drunk than he should be at work (he’s getting better at hiding it now) but he doesn’t think she knows how gone he is. Nobody does. It’s easy to keep her there until the end of his shift, and just as easy as it always was to talk her into the back seat of his car when he leaves.

His mind’s spinning with alcohol, and his senses are dulled, but still, he tries to convince himself that her hands don’t feel all wrong, and the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts are exciting instead of the exact opposite of what he really wants. The taste of her skin is too sweet. Her hands are too small. Her hair is too long and in the way.

He can’t get it up, and when she tries to go down on him and all he can think about is Cas, the mixture of alcohol and heartbreak keeps his cock absolutely soft despite her best efforts, and he ends up sobbing instead of fucking her.

She’s sweet about it. She always was really sweet. She drives his car home for him and calls herself a cab. She doesn’t come back to the bar, and Dean’s really glad. He doesn’t want to face her again. He doesn’t want her to see what a fuck up he’s become.

He tries again a few months later. Hits on a hot chick he sees at the bar, and this time he either isn’t quite as drunk, or his body’s more used to it in his system. He makes out with her in the corner of the bar, and she slithers up on him and gets him hard, but when he realizes he’s searching for a cock to rub up against he recoils and tells her he doesn’t feel well. Which is true. He almost throws up because of Castiel again, but he holds it in.

He goes to bed that night desperately wishing he could have Cas in his arms again.

He finally decides he needs another guy to fuck. Maybe if another guy can fuck him he won’t think about how much he misses Cas doing it. He goes to a different bar this time, still not wanting to pick up a dude at his own bar even after everything that’s happened. He turns down a dozen women who approach him as he knocks back shot after shot, and eventually he catches the eye of a guy sitting a few stools down. The guy keeps looking at him, and finally Dean smiles his best inviting smile, and the dude shuffles down so they’re sitting next to each other.

“You’re a popular man tonight,” the guy says.

Dean shrugs. “I guess.”

“Is it always like that when you go out?”

Dean nods and grins at him. “Pretty much.”

There’s a short pause before the man continues, “You seem like you’re pretty picky.”

“Those girls aren’t exactly what I’m lookin’ for tonight, if you know what I mean,” Dean winks at him.

The man smiles at him in a predatory way and leans over to rest his hand on Dean’s knee. Dean’s heart starts racing and his hands start sweating, but not in the way he’s used to it happening with Cas. This feels wrong. Off. He’s uncomfortable. He knocks back another shot, and the man runs his hand up his thigh even further, and Dean’s stomach twists before he hops off the stool so quickly he just about falls over.

He can’t do this.

He doesn’t even want to kiss this guy let alone be fucked by him.

It’s not him he wants.

“Sorry, man,” Dean says sincerely. “It ain’t you. I’m fucked up.”

He swallows down his last shot of whisky and takes off to call a cab and go back home.

He gets off that night with his own hand and two fingers up his ass. The memory of Castiel’s body pressing him into the mattress sends him flying over the edge and he comes with Castiel's name on his lips.

Afterwards, he slips on one of Cas’s old shirts to feel close to him again and he prays to a god he doesn’t believe in to just give Cas back to him. He’s nothing without him. He’s empty. He’s broken. He’s so fucking cold inside all the time. He  _needs_ him. He drinks, and drinks, and drinks some more. He can't keep doing this. He doesn't even care if he wakes up tomorrow if Cas isn't with him. He cries himself to sleep and hates himself all over again when he wakes up. He reminds himself for the millionth time that Castiel deserves better than him. He shouldn’t be selfish enough to want him back. But god, he misses him.

On Castiel’s birthday, he dials his number but never calls.

He types out a dozen text messages but deletes them all.

He wonders what Cas is doing for his birthday and if somebody else is doing a better job at making him happy than Dean did. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. He wishes with everything he has that he could have been with him on his birthday to bake him another cake and kiss him goodnight, then tries to forget he was weak enough to wish for it at all.

Dean only feels worse as the holiday season approaches. Every day brings him closer to the anniversary of the day his life went down the shitter, and the only thing he can think to do is drink more to try to make the pain go away.

His whole family corners him on Christmas Eve, led by Ellen, and he gets a hell of a speech about how he has to stop drinking his life away and how they’re not going to sit back and watch him ruin his life anymore.

He calls a cab and spends Christmas Eve home alone in his apartment. Turns out he  _can_ spend the night away from Sam if he’s drunk or pissed off enough. He tries not to think about what might have happened if he had gone home with Cas last Christmas Eve when he asked him to. He almost calls Cas a dozen times, and finally smashes his phone into pieces in a fit of rage so he can’t.

Castiel deserves better. He's a fucking mess.

He goes back over to Ellen’s Christmas morning and tells them in no uncertain terms that if they tell him what he can and cannot do in his own life one more time he’s leaving again and not coming back.

They all look unbearably sad, but they leave him alone.

Time flies by but he’s oblivious to it. Every day feels the same. Every night he drinks until he falls asleep. He tries to pick up women but he can never get past kissing them. Sometimes kissing them and finally feeling somebody touch him again is good. Sometimes he tells a woman that he’s just too drunk to hook up and accepts their offer to spend the night. Sometimes it feels nice to be sleeping with somebody beside him again. Right up until the moment he wakes up the next morning thinking it’s Cas in bed with him for a half a second and then he feels like shit all over again.

He tries to flirt with a few more guys, but the more he tries, the more he knows he was right all along. He’s not into guys. He was just into Cas. He never gets off with anything but his own hand, and he always thinks of Cas.

He feels more alone than he ever has in his whole life.

That summer, Sam tells him he wants to buy an engagement ring for Jess, and asks Dean if he can go with him to help pick one out. Dean fights down the wave of despair he has remembering the last time they were looking at rings, and forces a genuine smile onto his face. This isn’t about him. He’s happy for Sam. Jess is a hell of a woman, and if they’re happy, they should be together. Sam picks out a ring a hell of a lot faster than Dean did. Probably because him and Jess are gonna work out like Dean and Cas never did.

Dean thinks about Castiel when his birthday goes by again in September and wishes with everything that he is that he could be with him tonight. He wishes he could hold him, touch him, just look at him even. He’d even take the way they used to rest their thighs together on the couch when they were just friends if he could have it. Only Cas could ever make him feel better. Feel  _right_. Feel whole.

He misses him so fucking much.

He thought it would get better, but it doesn't. It never gets easier.

Sam proposes to Jess on the beach at sunset in October of 2016.

They celebrate with champagne and Dean tries not to think about how this was how it was supposed to be when he proposed to Cas, but he can’t get the thought out of his mind.

He talks about Cas for the first time in almost two years.

“I uh, know I’m doing a shit job of pretending like this isn’t bringing up bad memories for me, but you guys know I’m real happy for you, right?” Dean asks, staring into his champagne flute. For once, he’s not the only one drinking in the room. Champagne drunk feels a lot different than whisky drunk, though.

“We know, man. We know this is hard for you and we really appreciate you celebrating with us anyway,” Sam answers.

“I just hate to bring you two down. You’re so freakin’ happy together. You’re  _always_ so happy together,” he realizes. “I’ll never be that happy,” he sighs, more to himself than to them. It never would’ve come out at all if it wasn’t for the bubbles going to his head.

“Dean, c’mon. I don’t believe that,” Sam says. “We’ve all seen you happy and there’s no reason to think you won’t get there again.”

“But you’re not going to find happy in the bottom of a bottle,” Jess adds. Dean glares at her, and she crosses her arms and glares at him right back. This isn’t the first time Jess has said something like this. She’s the only one who keeps trying. “The only thing keeping you from being happy is your own stupidity and the whisky you keep using like a crutch.”

“ _Jess_ ,” Sam hisses at her.

“What, Sam? I’m not going to sit here and listen to this tonight! We all know you still love Castiel, Dean." Dean visibly flinches when she says his name out loud for the first time since Christmas. "And all you have to do is put the damn bottle down and go talk to him like an adult, and you could be just as happy as you were two years ago!”

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Dean mumbles, pretending that hearing somebody say Cas’s name out loud for the first time since December 2014 isn’t making him want to cry all over again. And she actually doesn’t know what she’s talking about. He never told anybody about what happened that New Year’s Eve.

Jess just shakes her head at him. “I love you like you’re my brother. But you’ve got to stop with the drinking. If being apart from Castiel is making you this miserable, maybe you should see if you can be with him again.”

“ _Jess!_ ” Sam says again, voice hard.

“I’m sorry, Sam, but you babying him, cooking for him, and trying to set him up on dates he never shows up for anyway obviously isn’t working. So I’m trying my way.” She looks at Dean again and Dean looks at the ground. He hears her sniffling and feels like shit for making her cry on the day of her engagement. Is there anything he doesn’t fuck up? “I love you, Dean. I really do. So I hope you know how much it kills me to say that Sam and I have both agreed that you will not be a part of our wedding day drunk. So you’ve got about a year or so to get your head out of your ass, go to an AA meeting, go make up with Cas, go do whatever you need to do to get a handle on this… or keep drinking your life away and miss out on your only brother’s wedding.”

She storms out of the room and Dean gets to his feet and walks out of their apartment and doesn’t look back. 

 

The days and weeks and months go by, but it’s like Castiel’s heart is frozen in time. He never stops thinking about Dean. Almost every day he finds himself wondering if today’s going to be the day he hears from him. He spends every day significant to him and Dean in 2015 with his cell phone in his hand, willing it to ring or vibrate. Their anniversary in June. The day Dean proposed in December. The day they met in January. The day Dean told him he loved him for the first time. Dean’s birthday.  

He refuses to diminish everything they had by only thinking about what he saw on New Year’s Eve 2014. Actually, the more he has thought about it, the more he knows something was  _very_ wrong with Dean for him to act that way with somebody else so quickly. That’s not the man he loves.

He goes to work as usual, even goes to visit his family for the first time in a few years, and he has everybody fooled with the smile he fakes.

But he’s miserable.

He was happier with Dean.

Even with all of Dean’s shortcomings, Castiel was so much happier with Dean by his side.

He knows he would happily take back all of those things that used to hurt him so much if only he could have Dean in his life again. He’d even take him as his friend at this point. He just misses him so much.

He keeps in sporadic contact with Charlie. She tells him about a gay bar right around the corner from his new house, but he tells her he isn’t interested in dating anybody else right now. He doesn’t tell her he secretly thinks Dean will contact him again someday. She never mentions him, so Castiel doesn’t either.

Jess keeps him as a friend on Facebook, but everybody else has deleted or blocked him. He checks her page more than he probably should for any word about Dean, but she meticulously doesn’t post a single thing about him. He sees that her and Sam get engaged in October, and Castiel wonders how Dean’s handling his baby brother having what he wanted.

His brother Gabriel comes to spend the Christmas holidays with him in 2016. Gabriel gets him so drunk at the gay bar by his place he kisses somebody else for the first time in two years. He thinks about Dean the entire time he kisses the man in the cab, trying to pretend it’s him, and when they get back to the man’s house, Castiel is so drunk he can barely stand up. He doesn’t remember passing out.

He wakes up on January 1, 2017, completely naked and with his head throbbing so badly he can barely even move without wanting to cry. He sits up, slowly, and wants to cry all over again when he feels how sore his ass is. He let somebody have sex with him when he was so drunk he can’t even remember it. Did the man use a condom? He doesn’t even know what his name is. He’s so ashamed. So disgusted with himself and his behavior.

He has his clothes and one shoe on, quietly searching for the other when the man in the bed groans, “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”

Castiel startles and then bristles at the rude tone of voice. Surely that isn’t called for.

“I’m leaving. You don’t have to be rude,” Castiel answers tersely.

“Well sor-ry. I’ve got a bad case of blue balls and one hell of a hangover,” he grumbles.

Blue balls? “We… we didn’t…?” Castiel asks.

The man laughs dryly and finally Castiel locates his shoe.

“You talked a pretty big game about wanting to fuck me once we got here, but it turns out you were a little too drunk to get it up.” Castiel flushes, but secretly he’s pleased that he didn’t have sex with a man he doesn’t even know. “To put the cherry on top of a really great hook up, you passed out when I was prepping you.”

Castiel didn’t know he could blush harder than he was already blushing, but he feels more blood rush to his cheeks. “So we didn’t…?”

The guy sighs. “No, I didn't fuck you when you were passed out. Fuck.”

Castiel breathes a sigh of relief. “For what it’s worth, I apologize for my behavior, and I appreciate you not taking advantage of the situation.”

He starts walking out of the room and stops when the man calls out, “Castiel? The next guy you go home with might not be as understanding about you calling him Dean. Be careful, okay?”

Castiel walks outside, takes a look around and recognizes the neighborhood as one close to his house. He walks home feeling just as ashamed and disgusted with himself as when he thought he had slept with the man, and he misses Dean so fiercely it’s like the pain is brand new all over again.

It’s March when he helps a man who’s trying to select an avocado at the grocery store, and the man asks him out for a drink later that night. Castiel thinks of Dean and almost declines before he realizes it’s been more than two years and Dean has never attempted to contact him even once. So he says yes to the man, who then introduces himself as Rich.

The date is fine. Rich is kind, and funny, and if Castiel wasn’t trying to silence his brain with more and more alcohol for comparing his every move to Dean’s, he probably wouldn’t have gone home with him that night.

Or let him kiss him.

Or take his clothes off.

He still wasn’t drunk enough to stop thinking about Dean, but he  _was_ drunk enough to convince himself that having some physical contact with another human being feels good enough to forget about what he’s thinking. Rich doesn’t have to know he wishes he was Dean. Castiel obviously isn’t ready to date him (or anybody else) if he can’t stop thinking about Dean, but he's never going to see this guy again. Still, he feels all wrong when he touches Rich below the belt for the first time, and he rips his hand away like he’s been burned. He ends up closing his eyes and pretending this isn’t happening when Rich ruts against him until he reaches his orgasm.

Castiel doesn’t follow him over the edge. Instead, his erection flags immediately after Rich stops rubbing against him, and Castiel barely gets his clothes on before he literally runs out of his house and doesn't look back.

He feels like he’ll never be able to get Dean out of his head. He wonders if sex with Dean has ruined sex for him with anybody else for the rest of his life, and if he’s already had the best sex he’ll have ever had. The ridiculous thought sends him further into another drunken stupor, this one spent at home alone.

Then in June, he runs into his former co-worker, Brian, at the gym. They make small talk and go grab a bite to eat at a little cafe after Brian invites him to catch up. Brian asks about Dean, and Castiel explains that they broke up two and a half years ago, but that he hasn’t been able to move on. He admits that he’s lonely out loud for the first time. Brian tells him that he’s always had a little bit of a crush on him, and if Castiel is willing, he’d like to get to know him better. Brian explains he’s in no rush, and they can take things as slowly as they want, with no pressure on Castiel whatsoever until he’s ready for more.

Castiel says yes, and cries himself to sleep that night. It’s been two and a half years, and he finally gives up. Dean isn’t coming back. Castiel didn’t mean everything to Dean like Dean meant to him. It’s time to really move on.

Castiel and Brian only go on three dates between July and August, but they talk on the phone often. Castiel laughs more than he has in years, and rediscovers the joy of having somebody to spend time with. He enjoys Brian’s companionship, but so far they haven’t done anything sexual at all, and have only held hands twice. He stays over at his house after drinking too much but nothing happens. He likes sleeping beside somebody again.

Castiel thinks he might actually be able to move on from Dean for the first time since 2014.

He still thinks about him often, no matter how hard he tries not to.

And he pretends it doesn’t break his heart all over again to consciously try to let Dean go.

Dean hasn’t had a sip of hard liquor since January 1, 2017.

Sam and Jess helped him pour every bottle he had down the sink in his apartment. Sam stayed with him for two weeks to help keep him on the right track. The first day was the worst. His stomach hurt so fucking bad he felt like he was constantly going to be sick, and absolutely nothing helped. Day two was much of the same, but worse because he couldn’t sleep. The shakes started on day three. He got a fever he couldn’t kick, he was  _so fucking angry_ he bit Sam’s head off for breathing too loudly, and he even hallucinated about finding a bottle of whisky.

He never could’ve done it without Sam. The whole first week Sam kept him alive. He fed him, he made sure he showered, he listened to Dean scream and yell and curse at him. Dean said terrible, unforgivable things to his own brother. Sam watched Dean cry, and he watched him shake, and he watched him pace the living room when he still just couldn’t fucking sleep. Sam sat up with him in the middle of the night even when he had to work the next day, and he never, not one single time, complained about it.

Dean owes every single second of sobriety to Sam.

It was Sam’s idea to talk to Ellen about switching jobs with her. Dean works in the kitchen now. He’s surprised by how much he enjoys it. He hates making those disgusting burgers out of the box, so he starts making his own burgers with his dad’s old recipe. He started cutting his fries by hand instead of buying them out of a bag and it turns out people go kind of crazy for them. Encouraged by his success, he tries opening up for breakfast on the weekends, and nobody is more surprised than him when the people pour in. It gets so busy that he has to hire extra help for the first time since he bought the place.

He starts working mostly day shifts. He cooks for breakfast, lunch, and the early dinner crowd, and most nights he’s at home by five. He spends most of his nights in front of the TV or at Sam’s house. He’s more himself than he’s been in years... but there’s still something missing.

It’s Cas, of course.

He hasn’t been sober and without Cas in his daily life in almost five years. He thinks about him constantly. He thinks about things he hasn’t thought about in years and for the longest time, he doesn’t know what to do with all of these thoughts in his head. He doesn’t want to drink them away, and maybe for the first time in his entire life, he doesn’t want to shove them down and pretend he doesn’t have them at all. Doing that when he was with Cas hadn’t helped a damn thing. So he starts writing in the journal Castiel bought him, and it helps more than he ever thought it would.

He doesn't think when he writes, he just lets his hand move across the page. Sometimes what he writes makes no sense when he reads it back to himself, but sometimes he even surprises himself with what comes out.

Like the time he wrote about his mom and dad and how much he misses them. He cries when he reads back his own words and finally understands why it was so hard for him to say he loved Castiel out loud. It was because of his parents and how he never got the chance to say he loved them before they died. He realizes he can’t even remember the last time he told them at all and recognizes the feeling of despair inside of him plus his racing heart and sweating hands as exactly how he always felt when he said I love you to Cas. Clearly there's some kind of connection there.

He wants to drive to the liquor store and drink away that particular revelation, but he drives to Sam’s house and sleeps there that night instead. Sam sleeps on the chair in the living room next to him instead of in his bed next to his fiance where he belongs, and if he didn't, Dean doesn't think he would've stayed put all night.

He and Sam go visit their parents’ graves that weekend. He knows he needs to fix this. Sam grips his shoulder in support when Dean falls to the ground and cries through telling his parents that he loves them for the first time since they passed away. After he gets it out for the first time, it doesn't feel nearly as bad to say it again, and after he repeats it again, he feels free. The words aren't stuck in his throat anymore, and his hands aren't sweating. He's fucking bawling, but he doesn't feel like something's wrong with him anymore.

He asks Sam for some privacy, and then he sobs his way through telling his dad he’s in love with a man. He says he’s sorry to his dad if he feels disappointed or disgusted by him, but he can’t help who he loves. He tried, and he just can't stop loving Cas. He never will. And he doesn’t want to hide it ever again.

He finally feels like there’s nothing to be embarrassed about when it comes to what his dad, or anybody else might think of him and Cas together.

A sense of calm settles over him when he feels an undeniable wave of acceptance float through his body and into his heart.

For the first time, he feels like both of his parents would have come to accept anybody he loved, male or female, and god, he knows his mom would've loved Cas.

He cries some more when he feels the weight he’s been carrying around with him for years finally disappear, and he feels like he can actually be himself now without holding anything back. It doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks about him now. He’s okay with himself. He feels  _free_. It’s the second time in his entire life he’s cried happy tears. And both times were related to the same man.

A few days pass before he starts to wonder if maybe he could be good enough for Cas now. If he’s learned from his mistakes. If he could treat Cas the way he deserves to be treated. If he would remember to buy him flowers and hold his hand at the bar. If he could tell him he loves him as often as he thinks it now that he knows how bad it hurts to regret not saying it when he had the chance.

It’s August of 2017 when he seriously considers contacting Castiel again.

Now that there’s no alcohol to kill the pain, he misses Castiel’s presence in his life like a missing limb. He can’t stop thinking about him. He wonders if Cas misses him as much as he misses Cas. If Cas hates him for letting that chick kiss him. If he knows he didn't kiss her back. If he’d ever consider giving him another shot after he bailed on him without a word.

He’s dying to know how he’s doing. He searches for him on Facebook and finds that his account is locked down. He can’t see anything except his friends list. He sees Jess and Charlie on there, and thinks about which one out of the two of them is more likely to give him information without asking him twenty questions.

He figures his best bet is Charlie.

When he opens his last text message from her he can see the list of messages she’s sent him over the last year that he never responded to. He cringes in embarrassment but texts her anyway, hoping that she won’t hold a grudge.

 

 **DEAN:** Can I ask you something without you making a big frickin’ deal out of it?

 **CHARLIE:** I think you have the wrong number...

 **DEAN:**  Very funny, Charlie.

 **CHARLIE:** See, this USED to be Dean’s number, but I haven’t heard from him in months...

 **DEAN:** I know I dropped off the map. I wasn’t doing so well. I’m doing better now. I’m sorry I wasn’t around.

 **CHARLIE:**  Okay, now I KNOW it’s not Dean because Dean Winchester doesn’t apologize. Ever.

 **DEAN:** Come on, Charlie. I’m trying here.

 **CHARLIE:**  You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you. What do you want to ask me?

 **DEAN:** Do you still talk to Cas?

 **CHARLIE:**!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **CHARLIE:**  I mean… yes. Occasionally.

 **DEAN:** How’s he doing?

 **CHARLIE:**  Maybe you should ask him?

 **DEAN:** Does he hate my guts?

 **CHARLIE:** See previous message.

 **DEAN:**  Is he still working at Ledgers Online?

 **CHARLIE:**  He is! (Please take note of how I’m not asking any questions, no matter HOW MUCH it’s killing me not to!!!)

 **DEAN:**  Noted lol Do you think he’d want to talk to me?

 **CHARLIE:**  Speaking from personal experience, you’re pretty hard to stay mad at. But there’s only one way to find out for sure ;)

 **DEAN:** Yeah. Thanks, Charlie.

 **CHARLIE:** You’re gonna tell me if you see him again, right?

 **DEAN:**  You’ll be the first.

 **CHARLIE:**  !!!!!!!!!!!

 

Dean sits on it for a week before he gives in and calls him.

His call goes straight to voicemail, but the voicemail box isn’t set up, so he can’t leave a message. He doesn’t even know if this is still Castiel’s number.

It’s another week before he thinks about sending him an email. He realizes he doesn’t know what Castiel’s personal email address is, and that’s a blow to his confidence. How did he basically live with the dude and not know his email address?

He knows his work one though.

Should he contact him at work for something personal? Is that appropriate? What if somebody else reads it?

He types it out a dozen times and stares at it in his Drafts box for  _hours_. He’s sweating, he’s  _itching_ for a drink, and his hands are shaking in the middle of August on a random Thursday when he finally hits send in the middle of the night before he passes out from sheer exhaustion.

Now he just has to wait for a response.

It’s been a typical Friday morning for Castiel, and he settles in at his desk with his travel mug of coffee to check his e-mail.

His heart stops when he sees an email with the subject line:  _Long Time No Talk_ from  **Dean Winchester**.

Everything stops.

He can’t hear the typing on the keyboards all around him anymore.

He doesn’t hear the phone ring.

He doesn’t hear his co-workers talking.

His entire life is narrowed down to Dean’s name in his inbox.

Two and a half years.

It’s been more than two and a half years and Dean  _never once_ reached out to him, and now he gets an email from him completely out of the blue? He stares it for a long time. He considers not opening it at all. Nothing good can come from this. The smart thing to do would be to delete it and pretend he never got it.

But what if something’s wrong?

And a part of him has been waiting for this moment. He knew they didn’t get closure and that they’d need it someday to finally move on.

So he clicks on the email to open it, and he reads it with tears in his eyes.

 

_Hey Cas,_

_Like I said... long time no talk._

_I hope everything’s going okay with you._

_I know it’s kinda short notice, but I was wondering if you’d like to meet up for lunch tomorrow at Burger World?_

_I get it if you don’t wanna see me, and I wouldn’t even blame you, but I’d really like to talk to you._

_Let me know, I guess._

 

_Dean_

 

Castiel can hear every single word as if Dean’s speaking directly into his ear. Castiel's fingers fly over the keyboard typing out a response before he’s even thought it through.

 

_Hello, Dean._

_I can do Saturday at 1:00._

_See you there._

 

_Castiel_

 

He hits send and then he instantly buries his face in his arms on his desk.

What the hell is he doing?

It took him the better part of two years to stop obsessively thinking about Dean, to actually start  _living_ his life again, and now he’s just going to let him right back in without even thinking about the consequences? What if it only makes things worse? What if he sees him and it starts hurting all over again? What if Dean asks him to forgive him and he remembers how much he loves him?

_Shit._

What about Brian?

There’s no way Brian’s going to happy about him spending time with Dean again, even if it  _is_ only for lunch. But then again, he and Brian are just casually dating. They’ve never said they’re exclusive, and they aren’t technically in a relationship. And he isn’t  _dating_ Dean, he’s just having lunch with him. Maybe he doesn’t even have to tell Brian right away. He doesn’t tell him anytime he has lunch with Charlie. Yes. He’s just going to see Dean this one time in a public place to see what he wants, and then if they find they can stand to be friends he’ll tell Brian. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.

And he can’t even begin to deny how badly he wants to see Dean again.

He’s dying to know how he’s doing. If he’s changed or if he’s the same. He just has to be careful not to fall for Dean’s charm and good looks all over again because the last thing he wants is to get hurt.

But he can do that. He can be an adult about this.

Castiel can handle this.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean walks through the door of what used to be their favorite restaurant, and his eyes immediately go to their old booth. He feels his heart drop when he doesn’t see him sitting there, but seconds later, as his eyes scan the room and zero in on him a few tables down, it starts pounding in his chest again. He’d know the set of those muscular shoulders and the back of that head anywhere. He has to take a few deep breaths before he can convince his feet to start walking between the tables, and it’s only a minute or so until he’s standing beside him.

Castiel.

_His Cas.  
_

Warmth floods through Dean when he sees him again. Those piercing blue eyes look up at him and when their eyes meet for the first time in almost three years, Dean knows they can both still feel the same electricity that’s always been between them.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says with a nervous smile.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel replies, formal as ever. The thought makes Dean’s lip quirk into a more genuine smile. “Are you going to join me?” he asks.

Dean was expecting him to stand up and give him a hug or something, but he realizes now that was a little bit too optimistic.

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, sorry,” he says awkwardly. He slides into the booth across from Cas and they both take a moment to size each other up.

Dean realizes there’s more lines on his face, and his heart aches when he notices a touch of gray in his scruff and around his temples, marking a passage of time that Dean wasn’t around for. He looks older, but he still looks like Cas, and damn, he still looks good. He takes a split second to wonder what Cas sees when he looks at him, but dismisses the thought almost immediately. “Thanks for making time to see me.”

“You’re welcome,” Castiel answers. Hm. Not really giving him much to go on here.

“So, how’ve you been?” Dean tries.  
Castiel’s eyes bore into him like they’ve done a million times before, and Dean has to fight against getting lost in that intense gaze all over again.

Eventually, Castiel replies, “I’m well, thank you. Yourself?”

Dean gives a half shrug. “Good. Y’know. Same old, same old. Work, family.”

“How’s Sam? I haven’t spoken to him in a while,” Castiel says, his first real contribution to… whatever the hell this is.

Dean’s smile comes naturally. “Sammy’s great. Did you hear he and Jess got engaged?”

“I did,” Castiel nods. “I sent them my congratulations. Not a big surprise to anybody, I would imagine.”

“Nah, not at all. He’s so fucking happy, Cas. I swear, you might not even recognize him with the huge dopey smile that’s almost always on his face now.”

“I’ve missed him,” Castiel says simply.

Dean doesn’t think about the words before they come out. “I’ve missed _you_.”

He can practically see the walls come up around Castiel. Not that Dean can blame him.

He wonders if Castiel is thinking about the last time they saw each other the way Dean is. It’s been almost three years, and still, Dean can see it in his head as easily as if it were yesterday. An hour ago, even. It’s been burned into his mind.

New Year’s Eve. December 31, 2014. Dean had proposed a week earlier on Christmas Eve, after the best eighteen months of his life with Castiel by his side. He spent two months picking out the perfect ring, and when he finally found it, he knew it was meant for Cas. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind when it came to him and Cas, which was saying a lot for somebody who is as unsure of himself as Dean is. He should’ve known things couldn’t be as good as they seemed.

Castiel turned him down.

Well, he would probably still maintain that he hadn’t said _no_ \- he said he had to think about it - but all Dean could think about was that he hadn’t said yes. Dean had gotten down on one knee in front of him and in front of his entire family, and Cas hadn’t said yes. They somehow managed to get through the rest of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but after realizing Cas deserves better than him anyway, Dean refused to talk to Cas between the 26th and the 31st. He had to let him go.

Sure, Castiel texted him frantically, left a shit ton of voice mails, and even stopped by a time or two. But Dean’s a proud and stubborn son of a bitch, and he wouldn’t answer the door or any of his attempts to stay in contact. He hadn’t been able to break up with him - hadn’t even wanted to, really - because he was still in love with him and wanted him more than he’s ever wanted anything in his entire life. But he still couldn’t make himself call him back. He was hurting more than he ever had, and he just couldn’t deal with it.

Fast forward to New Year’s Eve. Of course, Dean was working, because anybody who’s ever been to a bar on New Year’s Eve knows it’s a “all hands on deck” situation. He really shouldn’t have been working, because he was drinking almost as many shots as he was passing out. But being the owner means there aren’t many people willing to tell you to go home, even if it was well deserved.

The clock was ticking down to midnight, only seconds away, when Dean saw Castiel come through the door. Dean saw the bouquet of roses in his hands and knew without Cas having to tell him that they were meant for him. Dean tried to give forever to Cas and he has the balls to come into his bar a week later to give him _flowers_? Fuck that.

Instead of sliding the next shot across the bar to the chick who’d been flirting with him for the last hour, he walked around the bar and slid his arm around her instead. He kept one eye on Cas as he walked through the crowd towards him, and when the ball dropped and the chick leaned in to kiss him at midnight, he didn't back away. He remembers thinking that Cas didn’t want him anyway and he was too chicken shit to break up with him, so he might as well do this. What’s an easier way to get him to go away than kissing somebody else in front of him?

When he pulled away from the chick a few seconds later his stomach was churning with a mixture of disgust and shame, and his heart was full of regret. That was a mistake. A huge fucking mistake. Cas wasn’t where he last saw him, but the roses were there on the floor. He searched for him everywhere and never found him. That had been the last time he saw or spoke to Castiel until today.

“You don’t get to say that to me,” Castiel says, pulling him back to the present. It’s only because he knows Cas as well as he does that he can see the anger simmering beneath that icy exterior.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says. Dean almost never apologizes and Cas knows that, and Dean can see him thaw if only a little. “I’m sorry for saying it now and I’m sorry for not saying it when it would’ve mattered. I’ve thought it every single day, Cas.”

Castiel runs his hands through his hair in a familiar gesture and shakes his head. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t. I need to go.”

Dean reaches across the table and grips his hand. “Please don’t go. I’m so fucking sorry, Cas. I miss you. I’ve missed you every day. I fucked up.”

“ _You broke my heart!_ ” Castiel shouts, and it’s in absolute horror that Dean realizes Cas’s eyes are shining with tears.

“Yeah,” Dean says, voice rough but even, “well, you broke mine, too, in case you’ve forgotten.”

He hasn’t let go of Cas’s hand and Cas hasn’t made him.

“Then what are we doing here?” Castiel asks.

“Because we were more than that. We were more than how we hurt each other, and you know it,” Dean tells him. Every thought he's had about what he would say if he got another chance to talk to Castiel comes pouring out. “Every summer I think about you sitting beside me in my Baby, smiling and laughing with the windows down and the wind in your hair.” He smiles sadly. “Every fall I think about how I was raking leaves the first time I realized I was in love with you. I think about the first time you saw me cry after… you know… and how it felt so right.”

Cas’s eyes aren’t the only ones that are wet now. He swallows down the thickness in his throat and keeps talking.

“Every year on your birthday I hate myself for not calling you. And every single winter, I think about the worst mistake of my life. About how I was an immature chicken shit, and how I ran away from you when you hurt my feelings instead of waiting for you like I should have.” He waits for Cas to say something, but he doesn’t. “I should’ve waited no matter how long it took. I… I go back to that December in my mind all the fucking time. I swear I'd go back in time and change it if I could, but I can't.” He waits another beat and waits for Cas to meet his eyes. “I’ve thought about you every day, Cas. I know I’ll think about you every day for the rest of my life, and maybe I’m crazy or I’m way too late, but I didn’t want to go another day without trying. Without telling you that if you give me a chance to love you again, I swear I’ll love you better. And if you don’t want me anymore, well, I get it. But I just really had to tell you I’m sorry for every damn thing that happened from the minute I got down on one knee until the minute I walked through the door here today.”

Cas still hasn’t let go of his hand. When he looks down at their hands now, he sees their fingers laced together and he wonders how that happened. Who did it? And when? He hadn’t even noticed.

A long silence spreads between them, but Dean’s not willing to break it. If Cas needs time, he’s going to give it to him this time instead of running away like a toddler having a temper tantrum. Castiel looks away for the first time and swallows audibly.

“I’m seeing someone,” Castiel finally says, and Dean’s heart breaks all over again. Dean wishes he never heard those words come out of his mouth. He closes his eyes, trying to hold himself together, but he feels like he’s going to throw up, or pass out, and he finally feels a few tears escape from behind his closed eyes. “I’m sorry,” Cas adds.

Castiel gets to his feet and turns to walk away and Dean drops his head into his hands in defeat. If he thought losing Cas was hard the first time, it’s nothing compared to the pain of watching him slip away a second time. He feels like he’s breaking apart, piece by miserable piece.

Then Castiel stops. A whisper drifts back to him so quietly that Dean isn’t entirely sure if he’s meant to hear it or not. But he does. He hears, “I’ve missed you, too, Dean,“ and he feels a sliver of hope creep in again.

* * *

 

Castiel can’t handle this.

How he ever thought he’d be able to is beyond him.

From the very first moment he looks up and locks eyes with Dean, he feels the exact same connection between them that has always been there, and he knows he can’t do this.

Dean’s still gorgeous. More so than he remembers, if it’s even possible. But he looks thinner, smaller somehow, and the light that was always dancing in his eyes is gone. His skin isn’t that golden sun-kissed color it was before. He’s paler than he was. Castiel’s immediate reaction is to want to comfort him, but he remembers with a start that comforting Dean isn’t his job anymore.

He ignores the shiver that runs through his body when he hears Dean’s familiar voice say _Hey, Cas_ the same way he’s said it hundreds of times before.

He knows again in this moment that this was a huge mistake. He feels so many things just looking at him and talking to him that he hasn’t felt in so long, and it’s just so much all at once. It’s overwhelming.

But he doesn’t want to be rude, and he needs to know why Dean wanted to see him, so he does the only thing he can and answers his questions politely but as to-the-point as possible.

He doesn’t know if he’s just projecting or not, but Dean seems extremely nervous. He’s awkward in a way he has hardly ever seen him before. He doesn’t even remember to sit down until Castiel prompts him.

They only suffer through a few minutes of painful small talk before Castiel’s entire world stops when Dean says, “I’ve missed _you_.”

Castiel is filled with so much surprise, so much hurt, and so much anger that Dean has the audacity to say that to him after everything he put him through he can feel his entire body coil with barely suppressed rage.

“You don’t get to say that to me,” Castiel replies with his voice hard.

Then the wind is taken out of Castiel’s sails when Dean answers, “I’m sorry.”

 _I’m sorry?_ In all the time he’s spent with Dean in the past, he has never, not even a single time heard Dean apologize. Not during a fight, not if he hurt Castiel’s feelings, not even if he accidentally bumped into him in the kitchen. Literally never.

Then he keeps talking. “I’m sorry for saying it now, and I’m sorry for not saying it when it would’ve mattered. I’ve thought it every single day, Cas.”

Castiel can feel his heart breaking all over again. The wounds that he thought had mostly healed are suddenly gaping open and bleeding all over again. The pain is almost a tangible thing, instantly just as real as it was the moment he first realized Dean wasn’t going to call him back. The moment he heard him walk away from behind his locked door. The moment he saw him kissing that other woman.

His hands are running through his hair, and his only thought is that he needs to escape. He needs to get away from this, away from Dean, right now before he falls down again so far that he won’t ever be able to get back up.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t. I need to go.”

The next thing he knows, Dean has a hand on his arm, and Castiel can feel it burning through his shirt and his trench coat. He freezes. Dean’s hand on him again is like Heaven even with the layers between them.

“Please don’t go. I’m so fucking sorry, Cas.” Castiel hears the apology again and still can hardly believe the words are coming from Dean’s mouth. “I miss you. I’ve missed you every day. I fucked up.”

Castiel’s head is swimming. He never, _never_ expected Dean to come out and say these things today.

His very first reaction is anger. And anger is so much easier to deal with than how unbearably sad he is to know that if what Dean is saying is true - if he missed him every single day as Castiel missed him - then they’ve wasted years apart for no reason. So he goes with the anger.

“ _You broke my heart!_ ” he shouts, and even that wasn’t enough of a shield because he can feel his eyes burning with unshed tears.

No. He is not going to shed anymore tears over what happened more than two and a half years ago. He refuses.

Dean’s voice is rough when he answers Castiel. “Yeah, well, you broke mine too, in case you forgot.”

In case he forgot.

Like he’s thought of anything else more in the last two years. Breaking Dean’s heart by saying no when he should have said yes remains the biggest mistake of his entire life. It calms him some to remember how broken Dean was that night. He doesn’t want to see Dean like that again.

He’s suddenly impossibly tired.

“Then what are we doing here?” he asks sadly.

He can hardly breathe when Dean answers him. Dean tells him how he could never stop thinking about him, about how badly he screwed up by not waiting for Castiel like he should have. He says he’d go back and change it if he could. He says he’s thought about him every day, and will think about him every day for the rest of his life. And he apologizes, again, for everything that happened from the minute he asked him to marry him until the minute he walked through the door today.

Castiel is trying to take it all in but it’s so much. Dean’s little speech is almost exactly the same thing that’s been running through his head since New Year’s Eve 2014, too. He’d go back and do it differently if he could.

Dean said the word love.

Twice in two minutes.

He used to avoid that word like the plague.

Dean’s talking about his feelings, in a way he rarely ever did even with Castiel.

Could it be possible that he’s changed so drastically in just a few years? Was Castiel right in thinking that if he could have just talked to Dean about the reasons why he couldn’t say yes when he proposed that they could have worked it out? If Dean hadn’t have shut him out, would they be married right now?

He glances at his bare ring finger, and it’s then that Castiel realizes they’re holding hands. He looks at their hands stacked together and has no recollection of how it happened, but he can’t pull his hand away. He doesn’t want to, and that thought scares the shit out of him.

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. He doesn’t know what to say. Should he tell him that he’s so overwhelmed that he can hardly breathe? Should he tell him that deep down, in a place he never wanted to acknowledge, hearing Dean say these words is everything he’s ever dreamed of? Should he tell Dean that he feels the same way? That he’s missed him every single day, too? That he waited for him for years to come back to him, and that he’s never really let anybody touch him since he has? Should he tell him that he’s never stopped loving him, and how badly he wants to be with him again?

But then he remembers Brian.

He remembers that he can’t be with Dean again because he’s seeing Brian.

He feels guilty for holding his hand and guilty for having these thoughts. He pulls his hand out from under Dean’s and has to look away from him before he’s finally able to respond. “I’m seeing someone.”

Then he watches as Dean’s heart breaks all over again. It’s all over his face. The hurt in his eyes is almost unbearable to look at. Dean, no. He wants to go to him, he wants to hold him, to tell him that Brian means nothing to him compared to what they had. Dean closes his eyes, and Castiel feels another wave of heartbreak crash into him when he sees a few tears escape and roll down Dean’s perfect cheek. He swallows down his own tears and quietly adds, “I’m sorry.”

Because he is. He’s so incredibly sorry for hurting Dean all over again. He can’t believe he’s only been in Dean’s presence for minutes and he already has the man crying again. This is almost as bad as Christmas Eve.

He broke his heart again.

He gets to his feet and starts walking away from Dean, to put distance between them so he can stop hurting him, but he feels like he has to say something else. Something to let him know how terrible this is for him too, and how much he wishes it wasn’t like this. He knows if he turns back and looks at him that he won’t be able to keep walking away.

So he stops in his tracks and confesses, “I’ve missed you too.”

It comes out so quietly he can’t even be sure if Dean hears him. He hears a hitch in his breath though, and thinks he must have. Then he walks out of Burger World alone, and it’s as alien to him as it was walking in alone, but somehow this time it’s even worse knowing he’s walking away from Dean instead of towards him like every cell in his body is asking him to.

He drinks his way through the weekend.

He cancels his plans with Brian, telling him he’s not feeling well. He doesn’t let him in when he comes by with soup for him and avoids spending any time with him while he tries to get himself back in order throughout the next week.

The problem is he can’t stop thinking about what Dean said.

_Every single winter I think about the worst mistake of my life.  
_

_I should’ve waited no matter how long it took.  
_

_I’ve thought about you every day, Cas._

Even remembering Dean’s nickname for him coming from his lips again is like having the breath knocked out of him every time he thinks about it.

It’s the middle of the second week since he saw Dean when he finally really talks to Brian again. He lies and tells him he hadn’t been feeling well the whole time. That he had a bad case of influenza. Brian has no reason not to trust him because Castiel has never lied to him before.

He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t matter when he realizes he doesn’t really feel all that bad about lying to him in the first place.

Friday night, he and Brian go out again for the first time since he saw Dean. He loses himself several times thinking about how much more fun he and Dean used to have watching movies together, but still, he lets Brian put his arm around him when they sit on his couch. He also accepts the wine Brian offers, and his mind seems to drift more and more with each glass of wine he drinks.

_I don’t want to go another day without telling you that if you give me a chance to love you again, I swear I’ll love you better._

Isn’t that all Castiel had ever wanted? How can he try to pretend it isn’t what he wants even now?

He lets Brian convince him to stay the night, mostly because he’s had too much wine to drive. They’ve done this before. It’s completely platonic. It feels nice to sleep beside somebody again, and Brian always keeps his hands to himself and doesn't pressure him to do anything sexual.

Castiel doesn’t really want to be alone tonight anyway, so he lets himself be led to Brian’s bed and the wine he drank helps him to fall asleep easily.

The next morning he drifts slowly into consciousness with his face pressed against a strong back. _Dean_. It always feels so good to wake with Dean beside him. He kisses him between his shoulder blades the way he does every morning, and when he feels Dean wiggle his ass against his morning wood the way he always does, his lips curve into a small smile and he starts sliding his dick down the crack of his ass. He registers vaguely that Dean smells a little off, but it feels so good grinding against him, he ignores it.

Then a hand snakes down the front of his pants and into the elastic band of his boxers, and when he feels Dean’s hand grip his cock, somewhat tentatively, he moans his approval so Dean knows he wants him.

“Dean,” he groans.

The hand stops, pulls away, and then Castiel opens his eyes in confusion and sees _Brian_ climbing out of his bed.

He feels like he’s going to throw up.

“Get out,” Brian says, his voice shaking with either rage or emotion.

“I - I’m so sorry,” Castiel begins.

“Get. Out.” Brian repeats.

“It didn’t mean anything! I was dreaming,” Castiel tries to tell him. But his face is flushed, and he can’t even meet Brian’s eyes.

“I don’t care! I’ve been patient, Castiel, I really have. But having you touch me for the first time in months because you were dreaming about your ex-boyfriend in my bed is more than I can take. I want you to leave. Now.”

Castiel gets out of bed and is relieved to see he’s still dressed from the night before. He tries apologizing again and again, but Brian won’t even look at him or acknowledge anything he’s saying. He puts his trench coat on at the door and turns to look at Brian again before he leaves.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to see me again?” he offers hopefully.

Brian shakes his head. “I thought I could help you get over him, but obviously I can’t. I don’t know if anybody can.” Castiel feels the truth of his words hit him like a bullet. “I need some time. A part of me would like to be friends, but I’m honestly not even sure if I could handle that again. I’ll let you know.”

Castiel nods sadly. “You have been extremely kind to me and I can’t thank you enough for it. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me. I do hope to hear from you again.”

He means it, too.

Sure, he never had romantic feelings about Brian the way he did about Dean. But he enjoyed spending time with him. He’s smart, and he was easy to talk to. It maybe could have developed into something more if it hadn’t been for Dean.

As the day goes by, that’s the direction his thoughts continue to go in.

He was getting better. Everything was going fine until Dean came around again.

There was a part of him that knew he shouldn’t open that email, and still, he went ahead and did it anyway. It was a foolish decision, and one that led not only to what happened this morning, but the feelings and memories he’s been drowning in over the last two weeks too.

He’s still furious when he tries to go to bed that night.

A part of him doesn’t even understand why he’s so angry. Because Brian never really meant all that much to him, other than as a friend. It’s just infuriating to think that Dean thought he could just waltz back into his life and Castiel would just be waiting there to take him back.

Forget the fact that he waited for two years and he’s never really moved on.

That’s not the point.

The point is that Dean thought it would be true.

He tosses and turns for hours before he finally picks up his phone and dials Dean’s number like it hasn’t been almost three years since he’s done it.

He doesn’t realize until it’s already ringing that it’s 1:58 AM. He considers hanging up, but then thinks if he has to be awake, His Highness can be awake too.

Dean’s cost him enough sleepless nights.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Dean doesn’t tell a soul that he met Cas at the diner. Not even Sam. He drinks his way through bottle after bottle of beer for the rest of that weekend, and then does his best to pretend like it never happened over the next couple of weeks. He should've known Cas would want nothing to do with him. He should've known Cas was with somebody else. It's not normal to not get over somebody for more than two years. Cas moved on, and there's nothing he can do about it. He can't even blame him.

It's exactly two weeks after the diner disaster when Dean’s woken up at 1:58 AM by his cell phone ringing. He knows nobody ever calls about something good at two in the morning, so he’s awake and alert almost instantly as he blindly answers his phone.

“Sammy?” he asks.

“I hate you!” he hears back in an angry voice.

“Huh?”

“You - you _break my heart_ and ignore me for years when I was actually waiting for you, and then when I _finally_ move on and find somebody I care about, you come back and ruin _everything_! Again!”

“Cas?” Dean asks. He’s pretty damn sure it’s Cas, but why is he calling at two in the morning?

“How many other hearts have you broken over the last few years?” Castiel asks bitterly. “Actually, don’t bother answering that. I don’t even want to know.”

“Are you drunk?” Dean asks, still confused by the phone call.

“Do I sound drunk?”

“Not really,” Dean admits. “So you’re just calling at two in the morning to yell at me, then?”

“Yes. I’m calling to yell at you. Because I was finally - _finally_ \- starting to get my life back together after you blew it all to shreds, and then you come along and screw everything up for me all over again!”

“I didn’t mean to,” Dean answers, and he didn’t. He never even considered the possibility that Cas would be with anybody else. “I didn’t think --” he begins.

“You didn’t think I could be happy without you? Well, news flash! The world doesn’t revolve around you, Dean.”

Dean grasps for patience. “That’s not what I meant. I meant that I just never considered that you’d be with somebody else. Which is stupid. Because you’re _you_. Why wouldn’t other people want to be with you? There’s probably tons of people who want you. You’re amazing, Cas.”

“Stop it!” Castiel demands, and he sounds mad all over again. “You can’t just say things like that to me! Do you have any idea how much you’ve screwed my life up again by saying things like that?”

“Well, you've already told me twice in two minutes, so I'm definitely starting to get it,” Dean says, opting to go for humor.

Cas doesn’t laugh though.

“Do you think this is _funny_?” he shouts. “You ruined everything! I called my boyfriend your name by mistake because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and he broke up with me! Because of you!”

“Wait… you said my name? Like... during sex?” Dean asks, only half serious. _Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you_ repeats in his head, filling him with hope.

“UGH!” Castiel shouts over the phone. “You’re so childish!”

Dean can’t help but smile. “Some things don’t change,” he says lightly. “Seriously though Cas, I’m sorry about your boyfriend. I swear I didn’t mean to mess up your life again.”

“Well you did,” he answers.

“Because you can’t stop thinking about me?” Dean asks.

Silence.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” Castiel says quietly, and then the next thing Dean hears is a beep as the call disconnects.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean says, checking the screen of his phone for the first time only to see Cas blocked his number before he called.

 

 

 

Three days later, he gets a text.

 

 

It’s only a day and a half later when he gets the next message.

 

 

Dean’s heart stops and he can’t find words to reply.

 

 

Dean laughs.

 

 

Dean thinks he fucked up again when there's almost ten minutes of silence. Then his phone dings again.

 

 

Dean’s heart hurts but he laughs at the admission.

 

 

Dean’s phone rings in his hand. The screen lights up telling him it’s Cas.

“Cas?” he asks.

“What do you want?” Castiel asks.

“Uh, you called me, Cas,” Dean responds, confused.

“No, Dean. What do you _want_?” he repeats, the weariness in his voice makes Dean’s heart clench.

“With you?”

“Yes,” Castiel confirms.

Dean pauses. “Is this, like, a test or something?”

Castiel sighs and Dean can almost see him rolling his eyes at him. “No, it’s not a test. Don’t be ridiculous. I want to be one hundred percent certain of what your intentions were when you contacted me again.”

“Oh,” Dean answers, feeling nervous from being put on the spot like this. “Well, in a perfect world, I want you back. I want to be your boyfriend again. I know I haven’t done anything to earn your trust this time around though, so uh, I guess I’d be pretty fucking happy to just try and get to know you again. Then see what happens, ya know?”

“There’s a possibility we may no longer be interested in each other. Perhaps that changed over the last few years. Perhaps we are no longer compatible,” Castiel wonders aloud.

“While I highly frickin’ doubt that, sure, I guess it’s a possibility. Won’t know unless we try,” Dean argues.

“I think… I think I would be interested in finding out what I’ve missed in your life in the last few years. If you’re amenable to that, of course.”

Dean feels something dangerously close to optimism bubble inside of him. “Missed your dictionary talk too, Cas,” Dean smirks. “I’d really like that.”

“To be absolutely clear, this would be as friends. We are not dating. You’re free to date or sleep with whoever you want while we get to know each other.”

“You’re the only one I want,” Dean reminds him.

“Be that as it may, you should know that I won’t stop dating or having sex just because we’re speaking again.”

“Well, I mean, I really wish you wouldn’t, but I get that we’re not in a relationship and you’re free to do whatever you want,” Dean says, unhappily.

“I appreciate that. Are you free next weekend?” Castiel asks.

“I can be,” Dean answers honestly.

“Would you like to get coffee on Saturday? There’s a place right by my house that has delicious pie. I’ve thought about you eating it for years,” he admits.

“Hell yeah I wanna have pie and coffee with you!” Dean exclaims.

“I’ll send you the address and we can cement a time that works for us both,” Castiel says calmly.

“Sounds great, Cas. I’m really glad you called,” Dean says honestly.

“Me, too. Just… please don’t make me regret this,” Castiel replies, his voice softer and sounding more vulnerable.

“I won’t, I swear. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me, too,” Castiel answers, and Dean thinks he sounds like he’s smiling. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Later, Cas,” Dean smiles.


	14. Chapter 14

It’s an hour before they’re set to meet up, and Dean has to leave in 40 minutes in order to make it in time. Apparently Cas moved to the other end of town when he sold his house, which kinda makes sense since he probably did it just to get away from Dean and the memories in that place. Problem is, Dean’s changed his shirt about twelve times so far and he still doesn’t know if he looks okay. Should he dress up? Dress down? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t want to fuck up.

 He hears his phone ding.

 

 

Dean snorts.

 

 

Dean smiles, relief flooding him.

 

 

Dean pulls his favorite _AC/DC_ t-shirt over his head and smiles at his reflection. Cas has seen this on him a hundred times, and it’s in less than perfect condition, but he doesn’t care. This is who he is and they both already know that. He applies some extra deodorant, brushes his teeth and uses the bathroom, and then he’s ready to go.

It takes him for fucking ever to find a parking spot, and he’s glad he left early because he barely makes it through the door of the coffee shop on time. He sees Cas sitting at a small circular table and walks over to join him. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to order at the counter or if somebody will come take his order, but Cas doesn’t have anything yet so he figures he’s safe. He doesn’t feel nearly as nervous seeing Cas today as he did the last time.

This time he knows what’s going to happen, at least in some sense.

“Heyya Cas,” he says, smiling as he sits in the chair across from him.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel replies, and he even gets a small quirk of his lips which is what usually passes as a smile for him. “Did you have trouble finding the place?”

“Nah, the place was easy enough to find. Parking was a bitch, though.”

“Likely doesn’t help that Baby is such a boat,” Cas says.

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t you talk bad about my Baby. You know better.”

Cas actually smiles now and Dean feels himself smile in response. “I really did miss you,” Castiel says, still smiling.

 _God_ , that feels nice to hear. He tries to remind himself not to get his hopes up. “We always had fun together,” Dean agrees. “Do you come here often?”

Cas gives a noncommittal shrug of a shoulder. “A few times a week. It’s hard to resist when I know there’s always something delicious waiting for me.”

“Coffee any good?” Dean checks.

“The _best_. You’ll like it,” he says confidently.

Just then a waitress comes to their table. She smiles at Castiel and says, “Hey, stranger. Who’s your friend?” Dean tries not to bristle at the term  _friend_ being used to describe him to Cas.

“This is Dean,” Castiel says simply. “He lives on the other end of town, and I bribed him with your pie so he’d meet me here.”

“C’mon Cas, you know I would’ve come just for you,” Dean argues. He doesn't really think that, does he?

“He’s cute,” she says in a stage whisper to Cas and Dean grins at him in response.

“I’ve noticed,” Cas says, not bothering to keep his voice down.

“So, pie for you, handsome?” the waitress says to Dean.

“Yes, please. Whatchya got?” he asks, looking around for a menu or something.

“You name it, we got it,” she promises.

He looks at Cas. “Suggestion?”

“Go with the apple caramel,” he says confidently.

“Sold,” Dean exclaims, smiling. “And a large coffee, too.”

“You got it,” she says before turning back to Cas. “What’re you having today, handsome?”

“Hey, I thought I was the handsome one?” Dean interjects, feigning hurt feelings.

She laughs. “The two of you make a handsome pair, what can I say?”

“Hear that, Cas?” Dean says, winking at him.

Cas smiles shyly and his cheeks get a little red. Holy shit. How did he forget how _adorable_ he could be? And how did he forget the way he always blushed whenever he winked at him?

“Please don’t encourage him,” Castiel says to the waitress. “I’ll have pecan pie with a scoop of ice cream, and a coffee as well.”

“Woah, woah! Hold up! I want ice cream, too!” Dean adds quickly. "I didn't know it was an option."

“Comin’ right up, sugar,” she says, adding a sassy little wink of her own before she walks away.

“I forgot you do that,” Castiel says with a small smile on his face.

“What do I do?” Dean asks.

“Flirt with everybody,” he responds.

Dean scoffs. “I wasn’t flirting with her.”

“Not purposely,” Castiel agrees. “It comes naturally to you. You’ve always been very charming.”

“You know I’m only interested in you,” Dean reminds him, and Cas’s cheeks go a bit red again.

“Do you talk to all of your friends like this?” Castiel says, not-so-subtly reminding him that this isn’t a date and they’re just friends. He hates it.

“Nah. Jo would punch me and it’s pretty pointless with Charlie,” Dean answers, smiling.

“How are they?” Castiel asks.

“Great! Charlie's living with Gilda, and Jo’s still Jo,” Dean laughs.

“Is she still in love with you?”

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re still going on about that, huh?”

“It couldn’t be more obvious,” Castiel replies.

“If you say so,” Dean laughs, used to this argument. “She’ll always be like a little sister to me. That’ll never change.”

“Did you tell any of them about this?” Castiel asks, gesturing between the two of them.

“Just Sam and Charlie,” Dean admits.

“What were their thoughts?”

“Pretty sure my eardrums are still ruptured from the squeal of excitement Charlie let out over the phone when I told her,” Dean laughs, and Cas rewards him with another smile. “Sam… well, you know Sam. He worries about me.”

“He worries about you seeing me again?” Castiel clarifies. “I’m surprised to hear that.”

“Really? You know he’s always tryin’ to look out for me as much as I am for him.”

“Why would he need to look out for you? You’re the one who broke _my_ heart, remember?”

Dean feels uncomfortable for the first time since he sat down. Thankfully, the waitress comes over with their coffee and pie so he has a minute to get his shit back together.

Before he digs in, he answers. “Don’t be mad, but I never told Sam or anybody else about... what happened on New Year’s Eve." Castiel  _does_ look mad, and he can't really blame him, so he just keeps talking. "And... well, I didn’t handle the break up all that well,” he admits quietly.

“What do you mean?” Castiel presses.

Dean stabs his fork through the ice cream and then the pie before bringing the first bite to his mouth. When the flavor hits his tongue he can’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure. He lets his eyes roll back in his head to show his appreciation of the pie and when he swallows, he says, “Oh. My. God. This is _amazing_!”

Castiel even lets out a little huff of a laugh. “I had a feeling you would react that way,” he says, smiling bigger than Dean’s seen him smile in years.

“Anyway,” Dean says, trying to get back to Cas’s question. “I don’t really like talking about this, but after we… broke up or whatever… I had a really hard time sleeping at night. I couldn't sleep without you. My bed was too empty, and I was so fucking lonely, and I just kept replaying everything over and over in my mind every time I closed my eyes, you know? Kept thinkin’ about how many times I fucked up with you, about how you deserved so much better than me, and I could just never fall asleep.” He spears another bite of pie and rolls his eyes in pleasure again while he chews. “After a month or so, I figured out that if I had a few shots before bed I’d fall asleep easier. Then I couldn’t sleep again after a while even after the few shots, so I had to add an extra shot to get me tired, and then a little while later I had to add another one… and, well, it kinda felt better being drunk all the time instead of dealing with everything I was feeling from losing you." He takes a deep breath, trying to fight the way his throat is trying to keep all of his words inside, before he manages to finish saying, "Pretty soon, I was drinking way more than I should’ve been. All the time.”

“Are you still drinking like that?” Castiel asks. Dean notes there is no emotion in his voice or expression on his face to give a hint to what he’s feeling whatsoever.

“Nah, not anymore. Been just since the new year that I really got it under control. Then I started working through some shit that made me think I didn't deserve you before, and, well, I guess here we are," he finishes lamely.

“Are you an alcoholic, Dean?” Castiel asks bluntly.

Dean shrugs. “I dunno, man. I didn’t go to any treatment or anything, just stopped drinking the hard stuff with a lot of Sam's help. It really fucking sucked but I did it. I still have some beers every now and then with friends and I seem okay doing that. I can stop when I want to with beer. But I guess you could say the hard stuff is my preferred coping method.”

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” Castiel says softly.

“Of course I trust you. And, you know, I figure you deserve to know how fucked up I am right off the bat,” Dean tells him, feeling ashamed.

“You know I hate when you speak badly about yourself,” Castiel reminds him with a flash of anger in his eyes.

“If the shoe fits,” Dean shrugs.

Castiel shakes his head angrily. “So less than a year ago you got yourself back in order after years of questionable behavior, and one of the first things you did was contact me again? I’m not sure that’s a wise decision. In fact, I’m not sure any of this is wise if it could trigger you to go back to bad behavior.”

“No!" Dean argues quickly. "I mean, yeah, it’s a possibility that this all goes to shit and I go with it. But there’s also the possibility that I can handle it if it does. Won’t know until it happens. Besides, I got through it once, I know I can do it again.”

Castiel takes a deep breath before he asks, “Do you still have The Roadhouse after everything that happened?”

Dean nods. “Yeah. I’m not at the bar anymore though. Was too hard bein’ around all that every night, so I took up the cookin’ in the back. Don’t have to work late all the time anymore, and the temptation isn’t as bad when I’m not around the liquor all the time. Turns out you and me aren’t the only ones crazy for my burgers. Roadhouse is busier than ever since I started makin’ them from scratch,” Dean smiles.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. Your burgers still remain the best I’ve ever had,” Castiel says. “Do you enjoy doing the cooking?”

“More than I thought I would. I’m halfway decent at it anyway,” he shrugs, uncomfortable with talking himself up like this. He flips burgers. Woo hoo. How impressive. “Tell me ‘bout you, Cas. What’s it like living down here?”

“Different at first, but it’s nice. I like it,” he says simply.

“How’s work going? I know you’re still at the same place since you got my e-mail. You still enjoying it?”

“I work with some of the best people I know. I laugh every day. I love it. Couldn’t imagine ever working anywhere else,” Castiel confirms.

“And people say bookkeepers are boring,” Dean smirks.

“We’re definitely not that,” Castiel smiles back.

“Can I, uh, ask you about your love life?” Dean asks, nervous to bring it up.

“There isn’t much to tell. The man who just broke up with me was my first real attempt at dating since we… broke up.” Dean notices the awkwardness each time one of them brings it up. It’s because they didn’t break up, not really, anyway. They just fell apart.

“I’m still sorry about that,” Dean says.

“No you’re not,” Castiel disagrees. “You think you have a shot now.”

Dean gives him a half smile. “I’m sorry I did anything that caused you any more hurt, but at the same time… I don’t really want you dating anybody because _I_ want to date you, so no. I guess I’m not that upset about it.”

“You never were one to beat around the bush,” Castiel says dryly.

“Were you together long?” Dean checks.

“Not at all. We had only gone on a handful of dates, but I think I could have liked him. He was patient and kind,” Castiel says, then adds with a sigh, “But apparently it wasn’t meant to be.”

“So… we’ve been apart for years, but neither of us really moved on?” Dean asks, surprised.

“Despite how badly it ended, you’re a hard act to follow,” Castiel admits.

“I wanna try again, Cas,” Dean blurts. “Doesn’t it feel good being together like this? I just miss _talking_ to you so fucking much.”

Castiel takes a long drink from his coffee cup. “It does feel good being together again. But we’re not _together_ , Dean. I don’t know if I want that yet.”

“Do you still have feelings for me?” Dean asks.

There’s a pause before Castiel answers, “I barely even know you.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dean argues, fighting down his bitterness. “You know me better than anybody.”

“Up until twenty minutes ago I didn’t know you were a recovering alcoholic or what your job was,” Castiel reminds him.

“Details,” Dean says firmly. He slides his hands across the table to hold on to one of Cas’s. “Is this okay?” Dean asks, and though Cas hesitates, he eventually nods. “I’m not sayin’ we should jump right in where we left off, I’m just saying I want another chance.”

“I’m giving you one right now,” Castiel responds. “I’m here.”

“As friends, you said. If that’s all I can get, then I’ll take it, but I don’t wanna be just your friend. We did that before and it wasn't enough. Come on, man. Don't leave me hangin'. I gotta know. Do you still feel anything for me or did I wait too long to get my shit together and miss my chance?”

“It’s hard,” Castiel answers, but he covers one of Dean’s hands with his.

“I never stopped caring about you, no matter how hard I tried. And I don’t know how to be around you again and still feel all of that when so much has changed in the last few years. I don’t know how to see you and touch you and _not_ jump right back into where we were before.”

Dean’s heart is beating erratically in his chest. He knows there’s a chance Cas could shoot him down right now and it’d be just as bad as it was the last time he saw him, but he can’t _not_ try. “I’d like to take you on a date,” he offers.

“A date?” Castiel asks as if he’s never heard of such a thing.

Dean nods and shoots him one of his most charming smiles. “Yup, a date. Not just as friends. Someplace nice for once. I wanna pay for your food, and hold the door open for you, and kiss you goodnight with my palms sweaty and my hands shaking like I’ve never kissed you before. Everything I should've done the first time around. We can’t start over, Cas. I know that. But we can try again. And I really, really want to try again.”

“I… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just don’t know,” Castiel answers. He hasn’t let go of his hand yet, though, and Dean notices he's gripping his hand a little harder.

Dean smiles to reassure him. “That’s okay. You don’t have to decide today. Just think about it, okay? And if you decide you want to, let me know, and I’ll do my damnedest to woo the pants off of you.” Castiel’s eyebrows shoot up and he starts blushing furiously. “That’s not what I meant,” Dean sputters.

“Are you actually trying to tell me you _don’t_ want my pants off?” Castiel asks.

“This is definitely a trap,” Dean responds, smiling, and Cas laughs. God how he missed that laugh. He leans in closer across the table and makes sure he has Cas’s full attention when he pitches his voice a tad deeper. “You don’t need me to tell you I want you, Cas. That hasn’t changed. You know how it was between us.”

Dean can almost literally feel the attraction crackling in the space between them. By the faint redness on Cas’s cheeks again and the way he’s breathing just a little bit heavier than he was a second ago, he’d be willing to bet Cas can feel it too.

Castiel clears his throat before he responds, “That was never an area we had any problems with.”

“Do you ever, ya know… think about me? About that?” Dean asks. He knows he’s pushing his luck, but he’s curious. Cas’s cheeks only get more red and he breaks the eye contact they had been maintaining to look down at the table between them. Dean’ll take that as a yes. “I think about you, Cas. You’re all I ever think about. It was so fucking good between us.”

Dean can feel desire coiling in his stomach in a way it hasn’t in years. They’re not even touching beyond holding hands and he’s more aroused now than he has been any time he tried to hook up with anybody else. He’s getting hard in his jeans for fuck’s sake.

“See, this is a problem,” Castiel says, and Dean’s really fucking pleased to hear how rough his voice is. Cas is feeling it too. He knows he is. “How are we supposed to date and take things slowly when there’s all of _this_ between us?”

“We took it slow the first time,” Dean reminds him.

“Only because you kept trying to tell yourself you weren’t gay,” Castiel responds, and neither of them can help the stupid smiles that come to their faces.

“I still maintain that, by the way,” Dean answers, laughing at himself.

“I feel like telling you that I don’t want to wait six months for a first kiss a second time around is counterproductive to the whole wanting to take it slow thing,” Castiel says, still smiling.

“Slow. Just not _that_ slow,” Dean agrees.

“Since you kind of brought it up, can I ask you a personal question?” Castiel asks.

“You can always ask me anything,” Dean promises.

“Have you been with other men?”

“What do you think?” Dean asks him quietly.

“I don’t have an opinion,” Castiel says, looking back down at the table.

Dean lifts his hand to tip Cas’s chin back up so that they’re eye to eye again. “I told you before, it was never about you being a man. I'm not into other men. It’s just you, Cas. It'll always just be you.”

Castiel dips his head towards Dean’s hand, and he opens it so that he’s able to cup Cas’s face in his palm. Cas’s eyes slide shut and it looks like he’s taking a deep breath to calm himself. He opens his eyes again and Dean lets his hand drop.

“There was nobody else? At all?” Castiel repeats.

“I tried flirting with a few guys. Thought maybe if I let one of them fuck me I wouldn’t be thinking about you doing it all the time,” he says honestly. “But I just never felt attracted to any of them. Didn't want any of them to touch me. Never even got to first base.”

“I know it shouldn’t matter…” Castiel begins.

“But you’re pretty fuckin’ pleased with yourself right now, huh?” Dean asks, half serious, half joking.

“I’ve always been uncharacteristically possessive when it came to you,” Castiel admits, a small smile on his face. “It isn’t very becoming of me.”

Dean shrugs. “I didn’t mind back then, and I don’t mind now. Back to the original conversation though. I do think I can control myself, especially if taking it slow is what you need. I’ll do anything, Cas. I just want you back.”

The waitress comes back and drops off their bills, and Dean snatches Cas’s right away, leaving enough cash for both of them on the table.

“This wasn’t a date. I can pay for my own food,” Castiel says firmly.

“You snooze, you lose. Looks like some handsome son of a bitch already has it covered. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that,” Dean tries.

“It isn’t necessary, but thank you, Dean.” He pushes back from his chair and stands. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”

Castiel leads the way and Dean places his hand on his lower back. It’s half because it’s a habit, and half because he doesn't want to stop touching him already. He doesn’t move his hand again until they’re standing in front of his car.

“This went a hell of a lot better than I expected it to,” Dean admits.

“No tears this time,” Castiel jokes, and Dean smiles.

“No more tears for a really long time, if I have anything to say about it,” Dean promises. “I had a really good time.”

“Me, too,” Castiel echoes.

“Can I give you a hug?” Dean asks.

“I would like that,” Castiel replies.

Dean takes the step towards him and pulls him close to his body, enveloping him in his arms. He breathes in and smells _Cas_ for the first time in years, and he can’t help but bury his nose in the crook of his neck. Dean feels Cas do the same thing to him, and he notices they’re both clutching at each other’s bodies. He wonders if flashbacks of the two of them are running through Cas’s mind the way they are in his.

 

 

 

“Fuck, I missed you, baby,” Dean whispers.

He hears what sounds like a mix between a laugh and a sob and pulls away to check on Cas. He’s smiling, but his eyes are shining. “I never thought I’d miss that stupid, unoriginal endearment,” Castiel says, “but I did. I missed you so much,” he sniffles.

Dean raises his hand to cup Cas’s face once more, and drags his thumb across his cheekbone. Cas is smiling at him for real now, a soft smile, and it fills him with hope. He wants to kiss him more than anything, but he doesn’t push. He drops his hand and gives him a nod before he opens his car door. “I’ll see you again soon, I hope.”

Cas smiles a little bit bigger. “I'll see you soon, Dean,” he promises.

Dean climbs in the car and starts the engine. He looks up and sees Cas still standing there. Castiel motions for him to roll his window down, so he does.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I… I believe if you were to ask me on a date again, I might accept this time,” Castiel says, obviously somewhat embarrassed to bring it up again.

Dean’s sure his own smile could light up the sky. “Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind,” he says easily, and Cas smiles again before he turns and walks away.

Dean hits the steering wheel once in excitement, and can’t wipe the smile off of his face for the rest of the day. It’s the best Saturday he’s had in almost three years. 


	15. Chapter 15

Dean racks his brain for days trying to come up with a good way to ask Cas out again. They talk every day, though only through texting. He lets Cas initiate each conversation, not wanting to push too hard. By Monday night, he almost breaks and asks Charlie for help when it finally comes to him. It’s super cheesy, and he’d never do anything like this for anybody but Cas, but that’s the point, right? Putting it all out there to show Cas how bad he wants this.

He sets up a delivery of a candy bouquet to Cas’s office for Wednesday so that hopefully Cas accepts his offer and they can have their first date on the weekend. He adds a handwritten note that says, “I’m still sweet on you, Cas. Let me take you out.” He doesn’t add his name because he knows he doesn’t need to. On Wednesday morning, he checks his phone often enough that Ellen, his co-worker and mother figure, threatens to take it away by lunchtime. He settles for turning the volume up as high as it goes and tells himself he won’t look until he hears it.

It’s almost three o’clock when it finally rings. He yells out that he’s taking a break, and walks out the back door before he answers.

“Hey, Cas,” he says nervously.

“Do you enjoy embarrassing me in front of everybody I work with?” Castiel says, teasing him.

“Kinda,” Dean admits.

“This is the most creative way anybody’s ever asked me out before,” Castiel says.

“Did it work?” Dean asks hopefully.

“A text message would have worked,” Castiel reminds him. “This worked big time.” Dean lets out a loud sigh of relief and he can hear Cas’s amused chuckle on the other end of the line. “Did you really think I’d say no?”

“I thought there was a chance,” Dean tells him.

“There wasn’t. I would very much like to go on a date with you, Dean.”

“Bit of a change of heart from last weekend,” Dean reminds him.

“You’ve worn me down,” he teases.

Dean’s smile is wide when he responds, “Good. Are you free this weekend?”

“I am,” Castiel offers.

“Friday or Saturday work best for you?”

“What will we be doing?” Castiel asks.

“Can I surprise you?”

“I don’t suppose I have much of a choice,” Castiel relents. “Saturday.”

“Saturday it is,” Dean agrees. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

“I have as well. I’m… looking forward to seeing you again,” Castiel says. Dean can tell Cas is nervous about saying it, but Dean's glad he said it anyway.

“I’ll come pick you up at six if that’s okay?”

“I’ll text you my address. I’ll see you then, Dean. Thank you again for the grand gesture. You know how much things like this mean to me, and I really appreciate you taking this route with me even if it isn't your usual M.O.,” Castiel confesses.  
  
“Told ya I’d woo you,” Dean answers. “See you Saturday.”

 

 

It’s Saturday, and Cas has been trying since Wednesday to find out what Dean has planned for them.

 

 

It’s 5:55 when Dean pulls into Cas’s driveway. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a heathered grey button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows. He left just a little bit of scruff and styled his hair off to the side the way his hairdresser showed him. He knows he looks good, and he knows Cas is gonna like what he sees. Now he just can’t wait to see Cas.

He grabs the bouquet of daffodils from beside him on the front seat and walks to Cas’s front door. He knocks and rocks back on his heels as he waits for Cas to open up.

When the door opens, Dean can see that Cas is wearing a black shirt with vertical pinstripes on it, and somehow, the dark colors make the blue of his eyes pop even more than usual. He’s clean shaven and he’s styled his hair to make it look like he just rolled out of bed. Dean’s eyes zero in on the exposed vee of skin from one button too many left undone at his neck.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says, smiling shyly, and pulling Dean’s mind out of the gutter.

“Jesus Christ, Cas,” Dean breathes. Cas raises his eyebrows and Dean says, “You look hot as fuck.” A wide grin breaks across Cas’s face and Dean’s glad he didn’t mess up the opening he’s thought about for the last three days. “These are for you,” he says, handing him the flowers.

Cas’s eyes soften as he reaches to take them from his hands. “That’s very kind of you, Dean, thank you. Flowers and candy all in one week. I must be special,” he teases, and Dean feels a blush work it’s way across his cheeks. Dammit. “Come in,” he says, stepping back from the door. “I’ll put these in a vase before we leave.”

Dean steps through the doorway and closes the door gently behind him. He lets his eyes wander the open-concept first floor. This place is a hell of a lot nicer than his last place. Dean kind of hates how he feels like a stranger in Cas’s house, so he takes in the living room first. He approves of the huge leather sectional with recliners on both ends. There’s a big circular chair of some sort that he can imagine Cas curled up on with a book and a pile of blankets, and there’s a flat-screen TV mounted over the fireplace. Everything in here screams comfort, and Dean wants to sit down and never leave again.

His eyes then find Cas again, who’s rummaging through a cupboard above his head for a vase. With his hands up over his head, his shirt lifts up revealing a few inches of his skin. Dean feasts on it with his eyes hungrily, trying not to remember how many times he’s had his hands and his lips on every inch of that body.

“I like your new place,” he says, trying to distract his mind from the direction it’s going. “It’s really _you_.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Cas says, finally locating the vase and tugging his shirt back into place. “I bought it, so it’s not likely to go anywhere anytime soon.” Dean nods, understanding that he’s saying he won’t move back to Dean’s end of town. “Did you choose daffodils for any specific reason, or did you just like them?”

“I uh, told the lady at the flower store that I wanted something that meant ‘starting over’, and she mentioned that daffodils are a symbol of new beginnings. I thought that sounded pretty perfect.”

“Yes, I knew that as well, which is why I was asking,” Castiel comments, smiling.

“My first actual test,” Dean says, teasing him.

“And you pass with flying colors,” Castiel says, walking back towards him. “Shall we go?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Castiel answers with a nod. “I figured any date with you would include some kind of food.”

“You callin’ me fat, Cas?” Dean asks.

He laughs, and Dean preens at the attention. He loves hearing Cas laugh. “I just remember how much you like to eat.”

“Another thing that hasn’t changed,” he agrees. He walks to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for Cas. “Go ahead, get reacquainted with my favorite girl,” he says, gesturing for him to climb in.

He closes the door behind him carefully and walks around to climb in behind the wheel.

He shoots Cas a quick smile and buckles up, but before he backs out he can feel Cas watching him. “What’s up?” he asks.

Castiel looks away for a minute and then back at him. “A lot of memories in this car,” he says simply, and Dean barely manages not to choke on his spit. Memories flash through his head. He remembers Cas’s lips wrapped around his hard cock while he struggled to drive down the highway. He remembers Cas riding him in the seat he’s sitting in right now. He remembers barely making it out of this car and into the house so they could fuck more times than he can count.

Dean clears his throat. “If you want me to keep my hands to myself you’re gonna have to not make me hard twice in the first ten minutes of our date,” Dean says, smiling to soften his words.

Castiel’s eyes flick down to Dean’s crotch and then back up and away almost instantly, and he swallows audibly. “We’re never going to be able to do this,” he says seriously, and Dean laughs.

“Sure we are,” Dean disagrees. He backs out of the driveway and says, “See? Even though I wanna jump you in the car right now, I’m being a responsible grownup and driving to the restaurant anyway.”

“I appreciate your restraint,” Castiel says, and he sounds like he means it. “Where are we off to anyway?”

“I really wanted to cook for you at home, but I figured being home alone wasn’t the greatest idea when we both already know there’s all of _this_ between us,” he confesses. Cas makes a small sound of agreement. “I also didn’t want to go anywhere we’ve been before because I didn’t want any memories making this harder than it already is. So I thought we could go to The Station. It’s newish, and we’ve never been there together. If that’s okay, I mean?” he checks.

“I’ve never been, but I’ve heard good things. I think it’s really sweet that you’ve put so much thought into this.”

“I don’t wanna fuck it up,” Dean tells him.

“You’re doing the opposite of that so far,” Castiel reassures him. Cas leans forward and pushes the tape into the tape deck. Led Zeppelin starts playing and they smile at each other. Dean remembers how Cas said he missed this car and his old music, and it makes him happy to be able to give it back to him even in this small way. They listen to the  _Houses of the Holy_ album in a comfortable silence until Dean pulls into the parking lot at The Station.

Cas gets out before he can open the door for him, and he grins at him like he did it on purpose. Dean resists the temptation to rest his hand on his back as they walk into the restaurant. Dean tells the host they have a reservation, and they’re whisked up a flight of stairs and led to a table in the corner. Dean gives a wink to the host when he notices the flowers he ordered are the centerpiece for the table like he asked.

They sit down perpendicular from each other, and Dean loves that they’re able to sit so close. He watches as Cas gets comfortable and then notices the flowers. His head turns to the side and Dean knows he’s checking other tables to see if they have flowers (they don’t), and then he looks back at Dean, smiling.

“You bought me more flowers?”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he teases.

“You’re trying to tell me that our table is the only one with flowers - irises, which mean hope and affection - and that you had nothing to do with it?”

Dean smirks. “Nah, of course I had somethin’ to do with it. I know how much you love flowers.”

“You’re spoiling me,” Cas chastises him.

“You deserve it. Maybe I can make up for all the times I didn’t get them for you when I should’ve before.”

Castiel reaches over and places his hand on Dean’s knee for a moment. He makes eye contact and says, “Thank you, Dean.” He pulls his hand away as quickly as he dropped it there, and picks up his menu next. Dean tries to pretend he doesn’t still feel the warmth from Cas’s hand on his knee for the next several minutes. “So, what’s good here?” Castiel asks.

“Ever try fried cheese curds?” Dean asks.

“Never,” Castiel answers.

“Gotta try those for an appetizer then. They’re really, really good.” Cas nods his agreement and Dean continues, “This place is known for steak, so of course that’s good, but I’ve had their burgers for lunch a time or two and they’re really great, too.”

“As good as yours?” Castiel checks.

Dean flashes him a cocky grin. “Nothin’s as good as mine. But there’s nothin’ wrong with second best, either.”

“Hm, and here I thought we both wanted another chance with the best we’ve ever had,” Castiel responds, eyes still looking down at the menu.

“You fucking tease,” Dean accuses him, laughing.

Castiel can’t hold in a laugh and it hits Dean like sunshine. Two laughs already, he reminds himself. “I can’t help it with you. Old habits die hard, I guess,” Castiel says finally. “I’ll try to behave.”

“Don’t do it on my account. You’re just giving me lots of material to think about later,” Dean says, bouncing his eyebrows meaningfully.

Castiel’s jaw drops slightly. “You did _not_ just say that to me!”

Dean shrugs, still laughing a bit. “I told you when we had coffee that I think about you all the time.”

“I… did not realize that’s what you meant at the time,” Castiel admits.

“Oops?” Dean offers, then shakes his head. “Ya know what? Not even sorry. You know how hot you are. Privileges of an ex-boyfriend are that I can replay your hottest moments in my mind as many times as I need to,” he grins.

Castiel snorts. “This is the only first date I’ve ever had where masturbation came up.”

“I’m classy like that,” Dean jokes, and Castiel laughs again. _Three times_. “It’s nice to see you happy again,” he says seriously, and Castiel looks back at the menu nervously.

The waitress comes by and they both order a beer and the cheese curds to start off. She’s back with their pints quickly, and Dean holds his glass up before he takes a drink and says, “To second chances.”

Castiel nods and taps his glass to Dean’s before they take their first sips.

“You know, we never did get to have a first date like this,” Castiel reminds him.

“No, I guess you're right. We kinda skipped over all this stuff after I kissed you for the first time.”

Dean wonders if Castiel remembers it as well as Dean does.

Dean had been fighting his feelings for Cas for _months_. He had been feeling this… this _pull_ towards him physically ever since they met, but he just told himself it was a vibe that Cas gave off to everybody. He didn't overthink it (much) when they started spending all of their free time together. He didn’t worry about it when they started choosing to sit close enough to each other so that their bodies were always touching, or about how that only seemed to happen when they were alone. He told himself they were just best friends who sought comfort from one another. When he started to let his hand brush over Cas’s shoulders every time he walked past him and Cas smiled at him when he did it, he told himself it was normal to want to make his best friend happy.

When he got hard for the first time when he saw Cas walk from room to room wearing only a towel, sure, he had a slight moment of panic. But he reminded himself he hadn't gotten laid in a long fucking time… since he and Cas started hanging out all the time, actually... and managed to convince himself even that didn't mean anything.

 

 

 

It wasn't until Cas told him he had a date that he recognized the burning feeling in his chest as jealousy. He attempted to talk himself out of that too, telling himself he was only worried about Cas dating because it could potentially mean he would have less time to spend with him if he hit it off with this dude. But when Cas asked him to hang around and help him get ready, Dean was swallowing down bile mixed with panic more and more as the minutes ticked by.

Cas had it narrowed down to two shirts. Dean sat on the arm of the couch waiting for Cas to be done showing him the first shirt. As he began to unbutton it to change into the second option, Cas was rambling on again about how he met the douchebag he was going out with tonight, but Dean couldn't concentrate on anything besides the tan skin Cas was revealing inch by inch. When it came off completely, Dean was half hard in his pants and he finally managed to drag his eyes away.

“This one or the last one?” Cas asked, turning a little bit to each side so Dean could see his muscular back stretching under the shirt that was now buttoned into place.

Dean’s voice was barely louder than a whisper and he couldn't tear his eyes off of the floor when he said, “Don’t go tonight.”

Castiel closed the distance between them and crouched between Dean’s legs to look up at him. “Is something wrong?” Castiel asked.

Dean took one look into the blue eyes he loved so much and gathered the courage to say, “I don't want you to go out with anybody else.”

Cas’s eyes were squinted in confusion. “Anybody else? Anybody else other than who?”

Dean knew his face was tomato red, but he managed to get the words out. “Other than me.”

Castiel stood up and took a few steps back, confusion written all over his face. “But… you said you're straight,” he said.

“I know. I am. But I… I feel something towards you. Something more than friendship. And when I think about you dating or kissing somebody else I... I feel like I'm gonna puke,” Dean admitted.

Cas didn't say anything for a few seconds. The seconds felt like days. “Are you attracted to me?” Castiel asked.

“Y-yes,” Dean answered, but his voice cracked on the word. He cleared his throat. “I know the guy you're supposed to go out with is probably a hundred times better than I am. I know I'm nothin’ special and I just own a stupid bar and I'm not as smart as you and Sammy are, so I get it if you don't like me back. But I, uh, I just can't sit here and watch anymore of this. I should just go,” he finally realized, standing up and beginning to walk towards the door.

He stopped in his tracks when there was a knock on the door.

“Fucking great,” Dean cursed. “I’ll go wait downstairs ‘til you leave and then I’ll let myself out,” Dean promised, walking back the other way now.

“Wait here,” Castiel said.

“I really don't want to see -” Dean began.

“I said wait here,” Castiel insisted. Dean didn't argue any further.

Castiel walked to the door and opened it. Dean didn't want to watch, but he did. He saw the way the guy smiled at Cas and the way he checked him out. He heard him say, “You look incredible,” and he had to fight the urge to go punch the fucker in his stupid face.

“Thank you,” Castiel answered. “I am so sorry to do this to you, but I'm afraid I can't go out with you tonight.”

Dean’s heart soared and the guy flinched. “What? Why?” he asked.

Castiel turned to smile at Dean before he smiled back at the dude at the door. “It seems as though me agreeing to go on this date with you has motivated the man I've been in love with for the last three months to admit he might also have feelings for me.”

Dean heard the two of them exchange a few other words but he didn't absorb what they were saying. All he could think about was Cas saying, “The man I’ve been in love with for the last three months.” Cas is in love with him? Why didn't he say so before? Dean looked at Cas again when he heard the door click shut.

“That was sufficiently awkward,” Castiel said with a half smile on his lips. “You had to wait until five minutes before he showed up to tell me?”

“I - I didn’t know what I was feeling,” Dean explained.

“I don’t know who’s more confused about this, Dean, you or me,” Castiel said.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, meaning it.

“Don’t be sorry. This is everything I’ve been trying not to dream about for the last half a year since I met you, and it only got increasingly harder when I realized I had such strong feelings for you three months ago,” Castiel reminded him, taking another step closer into Dean’s personal space. “Do you feel this... connection between us the way I do?”

Dean wasn’t unused to Castiel standing this close to him, but he _was_ unused to it almost definitely meaning something. He nodded his head. “I… I feel pulled to you all the time, and I don't feel better unless I’m close to you. Touching you.”

“So touch me,” Castiel invited him, his voice low and sending sparks through Dean’s body. “As little or as much as you want to. I’ve wanted you to for so long,” he said quietly, eyes boring into Dean like he was the only thing in the world.

Dean remembers not knowing if he could, but he had just asked Cas not to date anybody else and Cas agreed, so he thought he’d better try. He reached out and placed his hands on Cas’s wrists. He kept his eyes on Cas’s body, at his stomach, and then lifted his eyes to his chest as he ran his hands up his arms to his shoulders. Now that he had permission to look, he let his eyes take in the details of the hard line of Cas’s jaw, the sharp slash of his cheekbones, and then he dropped his eyes to the curve of his lips. His heart was beating faster than it had ever beat before, and his hands were shaking when he brought them up to cup Cas’s face.

He finally found the courage to look at Cas in the eye, and absolutely nothing could have prepared him for how much _want_ he saw there. He didn’t know the last time somebody looked at him like that. He didn't know if anybody ever had. It was as intoxicating in itself as the feel of Cas’s skin under his fingertips. His eyes dropped down to his Cas’s mouth again and he leaned in slowly until he touched his lips to Cas’s.

His lips were surprisingly soft considering how dry they always look, and when the world didn’t end, and he didn't recoil from kissing a man for the first time, he did it again. The third time, Cas’s lips started moving against his, and it came naturally when Dean traced the seam of his lips with his tongue. Cas let out a tiny gasp and Dean took the chance to push his tongue into Cas’s mouth.

It was like holding a live wire.

His entire body filled with electricity from the very first moment their tongues slid together. He heard a groan and he still doesn’t know if it came from him or Cas, but he agreed with the sentiment either way. He stepped even closer to Cas, pressing their bodies together, and Cas’s hands finally moved and slid around his waist before his fingers were pressed into his back, pulling him closer.

He was hard as a fucking rock in jeans and he could feel Cas’s growing bulge as well. There was no freak out, though. There was no fear. There was only the resounding thought of _finally_ running through his head. His head was spinning, his heart was racing, and he was hornier than he’d ever been in his entire life from a single kiss.

He pulled away to catch his breath, and when he opened his eyes to see Cas in front of him, panting, eyes dark with arousal, and lips fuller than he’d ever seen them, he knew he felt the exact same way.

“Holy shit,” Dean gasped.

“I -” Castiel began, but he didn’t seem to know what else to say.

“Why the fuck didn’t I do that sooner?” Dean asked, and they both burst into laughter before they crashed together again.

“Are you thinking about it right now?” Castiel asks, dragging Dean back to the present.

Dean smiles, “I’m that obvious, huh?”

“It only makes sense. When I think about it, I still don’t know how you managed to stay so calm during your first kiss with a man when you thought you weren’t gay.”

“I’m not gay! And I wasn’t _calm_ ,” Dean argues, “I just didn’t freak out.”

“You never did even once. I kept telling myself to prepare for the big, ‘I’m not gay’ freak out, but it never came.”

“You let me take my time,” Dean reminds him.

“It was worth it,” Castiel says, and Dean feels his heart ache with the need to just touch him again.

He reaches over and places his hand on Castiel’s forearm. “I still just feel better when I’m touching you,” Dean admits softly.

“So do I,” Castiel assures him.

Their waitress stops by and they place their order. They manage to keep the conversation mostly light. Castiel tells Dean what he’s missed about his co-workers and his brothers, and Dean tells him more about Sam and Jess, Charlie, and Jo. It feels like two friends catching up after a few months apart, and Dean smiles and laughs more than he has in years. They tease each other about their bad habits that haven’t changed, and talk about TV shows they watched together and both still watch now.

By the time they’re finished with dessert, Dean wishes he could stay here forever and hates that it’s time to go. He decides to be honest about it when they walk back to the car.

“I didn’t plan anything for after dinner because I wasn’t sure how well this would go,” Dean begins. “But I’d really like to spend more time with you if you don’t have to get back home right away.”

“Do you think we could behave ourselves enough to watch a movie back at my place?” Castiel asks.

“Maybe if we sit at opposite ends of the couch?” Dean offers, but they both laugh at the suggestion. “Yes, Cas, I can keep my hands to myself long enough to watch a movie.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” Castiel asks, and Dean’s eyes go wide in surprise. “That’s not what I meant,” Castiel corrects, laughing nervously. “We both agree that we feel better when we’re close to each other. I would be happy to sit close to you and maybe hold your hand while we watch a movie. That’s what I meant when I said I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself.”

Dean’s insides go all mushy and he smiles happily at Cas. “That sounds pretty perfect, actually. Let’s go,” he says, getting into the car.

Dean doesn’t know who initiates it, but their hands come together on the bench seat the way they have hundreds of times before, and he hears Cas sigh happily beside him. He runs his thumb back and forth over the back of his hand, and he feels like he’s going to explode with happiness. He never in a million years thought this could go as well as it has so far.

When Dean pulls into Cas’s driveway again, they get out and walk to his door hand in hand, Cas holding his flowers against his chest. Castiel puts in the code on the electronic lock but Dean hesitates before he follows him in. “Are you sure about this?” he checks.

“Very. Come in, Dean, please,” he asks, taking his hand and pulling him inside. “Do you want anything to drink before we settle in for the movie?”

“Soda’s fine, just whatever you have,” Dean says easily.

“Glass?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Dean replies.

“What do you want to watch?” Castiel asks him, leading the way to the couch and sitting where the recliner is.

“Uh, I dunno. Have you watched anything in the last few years?” he teases, knowing very well that Castiel doesn’t watch many movies and prefers TV shows and reading.

“Not much,” Castiel supplies as he turns on Netflix and passes the remote control to Dean.

“Still into mind fucks?”

Castiel nods, “Yes, those still remain my favorite.”

“Okay, I got one for you then,” Dean declares, selecting _Gone Girl_.

“One second,” Castiel says, and he stands up to go over and dim the lights. They’re barely shining at all, the room now mostly illuminated by the television. Cas sits back down and reaches for the handle of the recliner. Dean’s surprised when both of their seats tip back and his feet are suddenly supported by the foot rest. “Love seat recliner,” Castiel tells him.

“Nice,” Dean approves, leaning back a little to get more comfortable. Without anymore discussion, Dean reaches between them and takes Cas’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. Sitting here with Cas beside him again, holding his hand, is making Dean happier than he’s been in years. It feels so good and so normal, he doesn’t know how he ever survived without this.

About half way into the movie, Castiel scoots a little closer and leans his head to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean happily lets go of Cas’s hand to lift his arm over his head and pull Cas closer to his body, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Cas shifts onto his side, bringing him even closer to Dean, and his hand rests on Dean’s stomach. Without even thinking about it, Dean kisses the top of his head, and his hand idly brushes Cas’s hair away from his forehead.

When the movie ends, Castiel unwinds himself from Dean’s arms and Dean wants to weep at the loss of contact. “I was not expecting that twist,” Castiel remarks. “It was better than I would have expected based on the title alone.”  
  
“The book is a million times better,” Dean insists, milking a smirk from Cas.

“As they usually are,” Castiel agrees.

“It’s getting late,” Dean acknowledges. “I should probably get going.”

Castiel nods. “A big part of me wants you to stay,” he admits.

“I know, baby,” Dean says, the endearment slipping out again and making them both smile. “Slow though. Tonight was absolutely perfect and I don’t want to screw it up.”

Castiel nods, and he stands, pulling Dean with him to the door. It’s awkward for the minute it takes for Dean to get his shoes on, and then once he’s standing again there’s _that moment_ when he wonders if he’s allowed to kiss him goodnight.

As if Castiel can read his mind, he says, “Not waiting six months this time, remember?”

Dean smirks and takes a step forward, cupping the back of Cas’s head to pull him towards him until their lips meet. They barely touch before their mouths open for each other, and then Dean is filled with the familiar but tantalizing taste of Castiel. He feels goosebumps spread over his skin, sudden heat flares in his chest, and he moans into Cas’s mouth when he feels Cas’s hands on his hips.

This kiss is everything he’s been searching for the last three years and never managed to find anywhere else. This kiss is like coming home, and like nothing he’s ever felt before at the same time. He remembers laying beside Cas in bed on Christmas Eve that night thinking that he’d never have this again. That he’d never feeel the sweep of Cas’s tongue against his. That he’d never be overwhelmed with the way Cas responds to him and sets him on fire another time in his life. And now he’s here, and he has this again, and it’s _everything._

He doesn’t know how long their mouths move together, relearning what makes each other tick, but it isn’t enough. There will never be enough of this, he thinks as he feels Cas suck gently on the tip of his tongue. Dean responds eagerly, diving in further, kissing him harder, barely able to keep his hands wound around Cas's neck instead of on his ass where they really want to be.

He could easily lose himself in this kiss. He feels Cas responding to him the way he always has, and he knows he could let Cas’s weight push him back against the door like he knows he wants to. He knows he could trail his lips down to Cas’s neck and walk him backwards towards the couch. He knows he could drop to his knees right now and Cas would let him suck him off, and he’s so fucking hard thinking about all of it he thinks it’s a real possibility he could come in his pants if he doesn’t stop.

So he does.

It almost  _kills him_ , but he stops.

They’re both breathing hard, lips red and swollen. He drops his forehead to rest against Cas’s while they both catch their breath.

“You’ve still got it, Cas,” Dean says, trying to break the tension between them.

“Mmm,” Castiel replies, and Dean knows his brain is just as fried as his is.

He takes another step back. “Thanks for letting me come over,” Dean says sincerely. “I had a really great time.”

Castiel smiles, and his eyes seem to clear a little bit. “I did, too. Thank you for dinner, and for spoiling me with three bouquets this week.”

"Believe me, it was my pleasure. Can I see you again?”

Dean gets one of his favorite smiles in return from Cas, and he says, “Of course.”

Dean feels like he just won the lottery. “I’ll call you,” he promises.

“You better,” Castiel teases, and Dean leans in to press their lips together one last time quickly before he opens the door and walks out to his car with a bounce to his step that he almost forgot he could have.

 

 

Walking into an empty house hasn’t felt this lonely in a really long time. He walks straight to his bedroom without even bothering to flip on any lights and changes into some lounge pants. He flops on to his bed and rolls to plug in his phone when it dings in his hand.

 

 

When he falls asleep later that night, he’s still smiling.


	16. Chapter 16

Cas talks him into lunch on Monday - not that it was hard to talk him into it. He’s sure he’s at least as anxious to see Cas as Cas is to see him, if not more. He’s been surprised when Cas has been the flirtier one between the two of them over the last few days, and he’s really confused by it. Cas asking him to take it slow and then wanting to see him again already is definitely sending mixed signals, and he doesn’t know how to react most of the time. He wants nothing more than to go back to how it used to be between them, but Cas hasn’t come out and said how he feels about him yet, so all he can do is wait.

He beats Cas to the diner across the road from his office and chooses a table while he waits for Cas to get there. He orders them each a soda and Cas walks through the door before they’re delivered to the table. Dean feels his heart start racing when he sees Cas dressed in his work clothes - a pair of black slacks and a bright blue checkered dress shirt tucked into his pants - and it only speeds up more the closer Cas gets to him.

Dean is surprised but pleased when Cas leans over to kiss him quickly before he takes his seat. “Been thinking about that for days,” Castiel admits as he gets comfortable.

“How’s it going?” Dean asks.

“Good,” Castiel answers easily.

“How was work?”

“Okay. The morning seemed to drag by though,” he says. “Always does when you’re looking forward to something, right?”

Dean smiles and is about to respond when their drinks are dropped off by the waitress.

“You boys know what you want to have yet?” she asks.

“I do,” Dean comments. “Cas?”

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” he says.

“Two bacon cheeseburgers with the works then,” Dean says, handing the menus over.

“Fries?”

“Yes, please,” Dean says.

“I’ll have a salad, actually,” Castiel adds. “Italian dressing.”

“I’ll be back with those in just a few minutes,” she says, smiling.

“You didn’t work this morning?” Castiel assumes, turning his attention back to Dean.

“Nope. I go in after this and stay until eight or so, depending on how busy it is.”

“Do you still work every day?”

“I don’t work weekends often anymore,” he tells him. “I only put in a few eight hour shifts a week, a lot of the other ones I’m just there covering during the busy times.”

“What do you do when you’re not working?”

“Well, until a few months ago I wasn’t doing so well, right? So I’d just be sleeping off whatever I drank the night before, mostly. I’m still kinda getting used to having so much free time. I started reading again, and I cook more for myself than just getting take out all the time. Watch TV. I dunno,” he laughs, suddenly feeling like he doesn’t have much going on in his life. “Guess nothing too exciting.”

“Sorry if this is too personal to ask, but you’re doing well financially then?”

Dean takes a drink of his soda and nods as he swallows it. “Yep. The bar’s doing better than ever so I’m kinda raking it in now. It’s nice to not have to work three jobs and not stress over money for the first time in my life. Surreal even.”

“You deserve it,” Castiel says earnestly. “You’ve worked harder already in your life than many people do in their entire lives. You deserve the money coming in and any relaxation you can get.”

“Thanks,” Dean says, feeling shy.

“Since I already have you blushing,” Castiel begins, smiling teasingly at Dean, “does this count as a second date?”

“If you want it to,” Dean replies easily.

“What else would it be?” Castiel asks.

Dean shrugs, “I dunno. Friends having lunch?”

“Hm,” Castiel says. “I don’t typically kiss my friends when we go out for lunch.”  
  
“Good!” Dean exclaims. “Though I gotta say that surprised me.”

“Me kissing you?” Dean nods. “Really? Why?” Castiel asks.

“I just thought you’d want to move things along slower than we have been. I’m not complaining, but I thought you’d need more time to work out whatever it is you feel for me. You seemed pretty… conflicted, I guess you could say, when we met the first time last month, and then again when you called me in the middle of the night.”

“You want me to keep being mad at you? I thought you wanted to be with me?”

“I _do_ want to be with you, but if you’re mad, then yeah, I want you to keep being mad. I don’t want you to pretend you’re not just so we can get back together,” Dean explains.

Cas is quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “Every time I think about you ignoring me for those five days or when I think about seeing you kissing that woman, I admit, I’m still angry about it.”

“Good. Whenever I think about getting down on one knee in front of you with my entire family watching and you not saying yes, I get angry about that, too,” Dean agrees.

“But I’m not angry at you now. I’m angry at you _then_. Honestly, I doubt I’ll ever be able to think about that and not get angry about it. But when I’m with you now, I don’t feel angry looking at you anymore,” Castiel says.

"I don't know if it helps or makes any kinda difference after all this time... but I never kissed that chick, Cas. She kissed me, but I couldn't kiss her back. I didn't even want to. The second our lips touched I thought I was gonna barf. It was all wrong because it wasn't you."

Castiel stares at him for what feels like a really long time. "I... I saw her pull you in, and I saw when you didn't back away, but I couldn't bear to look longer than that. I just had to get out of there."

"It still wasn't right. And I still shouldn't have done it, but every time you say I kissed her it feels all wrong. I didn't kiss her. Thought, you know, you should know that. But uh, I gotta know... Do you forgive me for it?” Dean asks, suddenly really scared about what the answer is and what it could mean for them moving forward if it’s no.  "For that, and for bailing on you when shit got hard?"

“For a long time I didn’t think I’d ever be able to… but yes, I do forgive you. I think as much as we loved each other, we just weren’t ready for that step yet. If I would have just opened up about the things that were bothering me sooner we could've been in a better place. Instead, we both reacted rashly and immaturely. Maybe we both needed the time apart to realize what we were missing,” Castiel offers. “Do you forgive me for not saying yes when I should have?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t say yes because you weren’t ready, and I can’t be mad at you for that. I mean, it hurt in the moment, and I was humiliated and embarrassed, but I can’t be mad at you for not saying yes when you didn’t mean it. Gotta say though, don’t know if I’ll ever work up the courage to propose to anybody ever again,” he says, giving Cas a half smile.

The waitress comes by with their food, and they both dig in before they continue the conversation.

“So… we’re good with the past. As good as we can be, anyway,” Castiel reiterates.

“I am on my end,” Dean agrees.

“What does that mean for us now?” Castiel asks.

“Um, well, I’d really like to keep seeing you,” Dean says, starting small.

“As friends?”

“I thought you said you don’t kiss your friends when you go to lunch?” Dean reminds him, teasing.

“I don’t. I also don’t want to be _just_ your friend,” Castiel says. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to say I’m your boyfriend again.”

“Okay. So where does that leave us then? Still dating?”

“Exclusively dating?” Castiel adds.

“That’s all you, Cas. There was nobody else for me anyway. You’re the one who said you were going to keep having sex while we got to know each other again,” Dean reminds him, feeling that pit of anger in his stomach again at the thought.

Castiel looks away and shakes his head. “I only said that to try and make you jealous.”

“Worked,” Dean admits.

“I waited for you for years,” Castiel says quietly. “I couldn’t accept that we were done, and I never thought you wouldn’t come back to me again one day. For two years, I turned down every date and every sexual advance made towards me because I was waiting for you. New Year’s Eve this year, two years after… that night… I decided I wasn’t going to wait anymore. I went out with Gabriel, and we both got stupidly drunk. I went home with a man that night for the first time.”

Dean feels like he’s just been stabbed in the chest, but realistically he knew there was very little chance of Cas waiting for him like he did. “Hey, we weren’t together. I’m not mad that you went and had sex with somebody else. I don’t exactly like hearing about it, but I’m not mad.”

“When I woke up the next morning I was naked and a little sore and I was sure that I had sex. But the guy I was with woke up when I was trying to sneak out and was pretty pissed at me. I didn’t know what his problem was, so I asked… and apparently although I was giving off enthusiastic vibes about being with him, I couldn’t get it up enough to actually participate,” he divulges, cheeks slightly pink but smiling through it. “On top of that, he says I passed out while he was prepping me and he never got to any of the good stuff.”

“Oh shit,” Dean says, laughing at the story and at the guilty smile on Cas’s face.

“Not my finest moment,” Castiel agrees. “It was another few months after that before I was ready to give it another try. This time there was no problem with getting it up, but I kept thinking about you. So I didn't go through with it, though I did help the guy get off. Um. Do you want to know how?” he checks.

“Why the hell would I want to know?” Dean asks, uncomfortable with the question.

“If we’re going to give this a real shot then I don't want there to be any secrets between us. But I also don't want to tell you if you don't want to know.”

“I don't wanna know,” Dean decides.

“Okay,” Castiel nods, then continues. “Until I started dating Brian, that was the guy who just broke up with me, that was it. I still never had sex with him, but we did have a romantic relationship of sorts.”

“I remember you saying that he was patient,” Dean says, not sure what else he's supposed to say.

“He was. Right until he had his hands down my pants and I called him the name of the ex I had told him I was still trying to get over,” Castiel admits.

Dean knows Cas meant that to be funny, but all he feels is anger. “I hate the idea of somebody else touching you. And I hate that you were thinking of me when somebody else was touching you even more,” Dean says, jaw clenched.

“I could never get you out of my head,” Castiel says simply. “I know I never should have been with anybody else when I was still thinking about you, but… it got lonely. Sometimes just feeling another body beside me and feeling terrible about it afterwards was better than being alone.”

“I get it,” Dean sighs softly. “I don't like it, but I get it.”

“Does anything I told you change how you feel about me? About wanting to make this exclusive between us?” Castiel probes.

Dean reaches across and lays his hand on Cas’s forearm. “Of course not. I still wanna be with you. And a part of myself I'm not too proud of is really happy you haven't fucked anybody else since me,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel laughs softly. “I felt the same way when you told me.”

“Kinda explains why we’re both so horny, too. No sex in almost three years.”

Castiel nods at the reasoning. “Although if I remember correctly, having sex never really seemed to make you want me any less.”

“Never could get enough of you,” Dean remembers fondly.

“I hope that hasn't changed,” Castiel comments.

Dean sighs dramatically. “You're _killing_ me, Cas. Stop making me think about you like that.”

“Don't pretend you haven't already been thinking about it,” Castiel teases.

“You're not exactly making it any easier, coming in here lookin’ like that.” Cas just smiles knowingly at him. “Ya know, I don't remember you being this cocky.”

Castiel ducks his head to try to hide his smile. “I'm not cocky. But if there is anything I'm confident about, it's how much you used to want me.”

“Used to?” Dean laughs. “I'm about to drag you into the bathroom.”

Castiel bursts out laughing. “I missed this. When do I get to see you again?” Castiel asks.

“Whenever you want, Cas. I'm tryin’ to respect what you want and not come on too strong, but you're making it hard.” Cas presses his lips together as if to keep from laughing. “Really? Gonna laugh at a hard joke? I thought I was the childish one.”

Castiel laughs outright. “Technically, I didn’t even make the joke. And you don't have to worry about coming on too strong. I have enjoyed talking with you and spending time with you again immensely. I want to say it's just like it used to be, but it's not because it's new and exciting again at the same time. It's really good though, isn't it?”

Dean is sure his smile must be blinding. “Again, don't wanna scare you away, but yeah. It's really fucking good. I feel… I dunno… whole again when I'm with you for the first time in forever. You have no idea.”

Castiel reaches over and lays his hand on the inside of Dean’s knee. “I do. I know exactly.”

Their eyes meet and then they're leaning towards each other, and their lips meet in a soft but lingering kiss. Dean feels something in his chest wrench at the sweetness of this moment and he feels tears prickle behind his eyes. He pulls away to rest his forehead against Cas’s and reaches out blindly for Cas’s hand to grip it like a lifeline. Cas lifts a hand to cup Dean’s face.

 

“You okay?” he asks, eyes squinting at him.

Dean nods, embarrassed. “It’s just… If you knew how many nights I wished for this…” He has to let his voice trail off because he doesn't trust it. He clears his throat and finishes a moment later, “I'm just really happy and kinda pissed about how much time we wasted. It's a lot to feel at the same time.”

“Too much?”

“God, no. Never. No such thing as too much of you,” Dean says honestly.

Castiel smiles at him with his eyes, the way he always loved so much. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Dean feels some of that sadness leave his heart. “Seeing you, I hope.”

“That’s what I was hoping, too,” Castiel tells him. He pulls out his wallet but before Dean can protest he pins him with a level gaze. “You paid last time, I pay this time. Don't be stubborn.”

“ _You_ don't be stubborn,” Dean protests weakly and Castiel makes a sound of amusement.

Cas leaves some bills on the table and then they're both up out of their seats and walking back outside. Once they exit the restaurant Castiel reaches for Dean’s hand and Dean can't help smiling like a twelve year old boy on his first date. He's just _so_ happy.

“Where’d you park?” Castiel asks, cutting into Dean’s thoughts. Dean gestures and they walk that way in a comfortable silence. Once they reach the car Dean looks up at Cas and smiles again.

“Thanks for lunch,” he says.

“Thanks for coming with me. I can guarantee this will be the best part of my day.”

“Jeez Cas, you just keep makin’ me blush,” he teases.

Cas takes a step forward and suddenly Dean feels his back pressed against his Baby. Cas’s face is close enough that he can feel his breath on his lips. He meets Dean’s eyes with his and then slowly lowers them to his mouth. Then Dean’s mind goes completely blank as Castiel kisses the breath out of him. Castiel licks into Dean’s mouth and Dean opens for him eagerly, winding his hands around him and pulling him in closer with his hand on the seductive curve of his lower back.

This kiss is unlike anything they've shared so far. Castiel’s lips are brutal and rough, and it kicks Dean’s libido into overdrive. He hears a growl in his chest and Cas’s whimper in response. He can feel his cock rapidly growing in his pants and gives into the urge to roll his hips slightly towards Cas. Cas’s mouth drops open in surprised pleasure and Dean takes the opportunity to kiss along the line of his jaw. Cas lifts his head to expose his neck and Dean feasts on every inch of bare skin he can find. Castiel’s hands roam along his back and shoulders, and he pushes his own hips forward and Dean can feel their erections brush together.

Instantly, he's picturing tearing Cas’s clothes off right here on the side of the street when a horn honks (probably at the two of them) and brings him back to reality. He pushes Cas away gently to put some space between them as he pants and tries to make his brain work again.

“Uhm,” Castiel says, raking his hands through his hair. Dean notices his voice sounds as wrecked as he looks.

Dean chuckles at the sound. “Yeah. You could say that.”

Castiel looks down at the obvious tent in his pants and then back up at Dean. “How the hell am I supposed to go back to work now?”

Dean lets out a breathy laugh, trying hard not to think about everything he wants to do to help Cas out with the current situation. “Shit, man. I dunno. I can't think about anything but fucking you against my car.”

Castiel takes another step back, swallowing so hard that Dean can hear him. “I need to go before I let you and we’re both arrested for public indecency.”

“Good idea,” Dean agrees. “Still on for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. In a very public place.”

“See ya, Cas.”

Cas gives an awkward little wave and walks away, looking back over his shoulder at Dean several times as he goes.

Dean looks down at his own very interested dick and shakes his head as he climbs into his car and drives to work. It's gonna be a long night.

To say Dean is distracted at work that night would be an understatement. He does get through the night though, and though it’s slow in the kitchen after seven, he stays until nine anyway just to say he put in his eight hours.

By the time he gets home, the only thing he wants to do is shower the smell of grease off of his body and rub one out before bed.

He has stripped off his shirt when he hears his phone ding.

 

 

Dean isn’t even under the spray from the water before his body has reacted to the things that Cas was saying. Between getting worked up at lunch when Cas had him pressed against the car and now knowing that Cas is getting himself off at the same time Dean is _while_ he’s thinking about him… well, it isn’t long before Dean’s coming all over the shower wall. His legs feel weak after coming harder than he has in God knows how long, and he has to lean against the wall until he can get his legs under him again. Only then does he actually start the process of getting the smell of grease off of his body.

He isn’t surprised to see his phone lit up with another message from Cas when he walks back into his bedroom. He smiles to himself but puts on his pajama pants before he grabs for it.

 

 

Dean laughs to himself and lays back on his bed, thinking.

He’s cautious of what’s happening between him and Cas because it feels like it’s happening so quickly. He knows Cas hasn’t said it, but if they’re exclusively dating and are going to continue to see each other every few days (which seems like the direction this is going in) then regardless of what label they put on it, they’re back together.

It’s absolutely everything he has ever wanted and it scares the living shit out of him. What happens once they’re officially boyfriends again? How long until he wants more like he did last time? And what happens if Cas doesn’t want that again? How long until he can’t hold back from asking him about it, and what happens if it brings everything that broke them up back to the surface?

Dean runs his hands down his face. He needs to take it easy. Maybe Cas will feel the same way he does this time, and maybe he can finally have everything he ever wanted. His ring on Cas’s finger, and the two of them living under the same roof, falling asleep together and waking up next to each other every day. He doesn’t know if it’s in the cards for them, but he knows it isn’t impossible, and that, at least, makes him happy.


	17. Chapter 17

When Dean knocks on Cas’s door the next evening, it’s opened almost immediately. He takes in Cas in a worn pair of jeans and a t-shirt with, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good…” written on the front of it and he knows his face lights up.

 

 

 

“It really isn’t fair that you can look _that good_ in a Harry Potter t-shirt,” Dean says. He goes to lean in to kiss Cas but Cas takes a step back. Dean feels something bad clench in his stomach. “Oh. Uh, sorry,” he says awkwardly, looking away and running his hand through his hair nervously.

“Dean,” Castiel admonishes gently, “it’s not that I don’t want you to kiss me. I just don’t trust myself kissing you in my house when we’re supposed to go out on a date.”

Dean feels even more embarrassed now. "Oh," he says, smiling sheepishly. Cas just keeps smiling at him, so he rolls his eyes to try and break the tension and says, "Let's go, then. You ready?"  
  
"I'm ready. After you," he says gesturing to the door. Dean walks out and opens the door for Cas, which earns him one of Cas's rare toothy smiles, and then walks around to his side of the car.  
  
They keep up a running conversation of how their days went, and Dean's happy when Cas takes his hand off of where it was resting on his lap to hold it on the seat between them. He doesn't think he'll ever take such a comforting gesture for granted ever again.  
  
When they get to Yogurtz Dean is amazed with all the different flavours of frozen yogurt! He settles on Blue Nerd and Cas gets Chunky Monkey, then they go over to the toppings. Dean covers his yogurt in as much candy as he can fit in the bowl, and when he hears Cas burst out laughing he looks over to see he has only put chocolate chips and sprinkles on his.  
  
"Are you five?" Castiel asks him, eyes lit up. Dean must look confused, because Cas then gestures to the pile of candy on top of his frozen yogurt.  
  
"I like candy! Shut up!" Dean defends, and Cas laughs more.  
  
"That's going to cost you twenty dollars!"  
  
"Huh?" Dean asks, confused again.  
  
"It's priced by weight. With all that candy on there it's going to weigh a ton," he explains.  
  
"Now he tells me!" Dean says dramatically.  
  
"You're right. I should have known you would treat the frozen yogurt place like a kid in a candy store."  
  
Dean raises an eyebrow at him. "We have met before, you know. How quickly he forgets," he jokes.  
  
"Thankfully you're not a child and you can afford your own candy addiction. Right over here," Castiel says, nodding to the counter.  
  
The girl working can't be older than eighteen, and the second she gets a look at Dean her face goes red as a brick. Dean smiles wider and says, "Hey, darlin'."  
  
She giggles and Dean has to suppress a laugh. She puts his yogurt on the scale and tells him it's $13.  
  
"I'll pay for his, too," he says, pointing to Cas.  
  
She glances at Cas and gives him an appraising look. Castiel deliberately slides an arm around Dean’s waist, and the girl's eyes go wide before she looks away quickly and weighs Cas's yogurt. Together, the total is just under $20. Dean gives her $25 and tells her to keep the change, adding a wink for good measure.  
  
She giggles again and turns impossibly redder before Dean and Cas go sit in a booth. Dean's surprised when Cas slides in beside him rather than across from him, but it's the happy kind of surprised.  
  
"You just had to crush her dreams, didn't you?" Dean asks Cas.  
  
Castiel feigns innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"You know she would've figured it out in about five minutes when you actually can't keep your hands off of me. You didn't need to do it on purpose," Dean says.  
  
"I was trying to spare her from having a heart attack. If you didn't notice, she seemed a little overwhelmed."  
  
"I have that effect on people," Dean smiles.  
  
"Believe me, I'm aware," Castiel answers. "How is your yogurt? Or should I say your mountain of candy?"  
  
"My candy is delicious, thank you very much. How's yours?"  
  
"Would you like to try it?" Castiel offers.  
  
Dean shrugs. "Sure, why not." He licks his spoon clean before he leans over and dips his spoon into Cas's bowl and takes a bite. He nods his approval before he licks his spoon clean again. "Not bad, but mine's better."  
  
Castiel raises his hand to Dean's face and runs his finger across his top lip. "You made a bit of a mess," he says, and then he sucks the tip of his finger clean. Dean leans across and gives him a quick kiss, just because cleaning him up like that was such a sweet thing to do and Cas did it like it was no big deal.  
  
"Told you she would've figured it out," Dean reminds Cas.  
  
"Yes, yes, you're very clever," Castiel says, patronizing him. After a minute he says, "I was wondering what Sam's thinking about you and I now that we're dating again. I assume you told him?"  
  
Dean nods. "Yeah, I did. He was surprised when I told him how well it was going and he told me to be careful. But he's happy. You know he always liked you."  
  
"Do you think we could get together with him and Jess sometime soon? I'd really like to see them again," Castiel requests.  
  
"I don't see why not. I'll see what they're doing this weekend. Maybe I can have you all over and remind you how amazing my burgers are."  
  
"How do you know I'm free this weekend?" Castiel asks seriously.  
  
"Because I know you wanna see me again," Dean answers, putting on a braver face than he feels.  
  
Castiel's lips twitch. "You're right. I'd love that!"  
  
"I'll see what I can do," Dean promises. "He's probably going to give you the speech, ya know."  
  
Castiel laughs. "Oh, the speech. I almost forgot about that! At least this time I shouldn't have to convince him you're actually gay."  
  
This time Dean laughs. "Yeah. I bet he wishes he didn't get the proof he did, though."  
  
"I will never forget the look on his face when he walked in on us for as long as I live," Castiel admits.  
  
"Serves him right. I've only been telling him to knock before he comes in my room for damn near twenty years. Was really fucking funny, though," Dean remembers.  
  
"To be fair, we weren't in your room."  
  
"In my house, though! That's what he gets for charging in like the giant moose he is!" Dean exclaims.  
  
"I can't believe he still liked me after that," Castiel laughs.  
  
"He couldn't deny you were making me happy," Dean says, laughing with him.

“Definitely happier than he ever wanted to see you,” Castiel says, still laughing at the memory. “I know I keep saying this, but I missed you so much,” he smiles.

“I missed you too,” Dean echoes, and Castiel bumps his shoulder against Dean’s.

They linger in the yogurt shop just talking until the worker comes over and tells them she is closing in a few minutes. When they get back to Cas’s house, Castiel surprises Dean by saying, “Would you like to come inside?”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

Dean’s heart starts racing and he nods, “Yeah, of course.”

They walk into his house hand in hand, and once they slip off their shoes Castiel pulls him close and winds his arms around Dean’s neck. “Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

Castiel looks Dean directly in the eye, and Dean can feel himself pulled in by that magnetic force that’s always between them.

Castiel’s voice comes out in a whisper when he says, “Can I be your boyfriend again?”

Dean leans in and kisses him hard and fast. Laughter bubbles out of him and he says, “Yes! Yes, Cas. Fuck yes,” between kisses.

Castiel laughs with him and says, “I was hoping you would say that.”

“I’m so fucking happy,” Dean exclaims before he goes back in for another kiss. Their kisses get longer and longer, and while they’re both obviously aroused, neither of them makes a move away from standing at the door or to try and further the kiss until Cas finally pulls away.

He takes Dean by the hand and leads him down the hallway. He stops at the door to his bedroom, and gives Dean a shy smile before he pulls him inside.

Dean’s heart is pounding and his mind is spinning. He can only manage to make a sound of confusion and then Castiel says, “I’m not quite ready to go all the way, but if it’s okay, I'd really like to be close with you again in any other way.”

Dean nods. “Ye-ah.” His voice cracks a little and he tries again, “Yeah, I’d like that, too.”

“I want you so much,” Castiel confesses, and it lights a fire inside of Dean. He recaptures Cas’s lips and runs his hands down his back. Without anything else holding him back, he lets his hands push up Cas’s shirt and finally feels his bare skin under his hands again. He feels the curve of his lower back and remembers how many times he’s trailed his lips along that dip. It only makes him hold him tighter and kiss him harder. He grips the hem of Cas's shirt and pulls it up over his head. Castiel follows suit, and Dean lifts his arms to help him get his shirt off.

He rakes his eyes along Cas’s body, hungry to take in every new detail. His stomach isn’t chiseled and hard anymore, but it’s still flat. His arms are still defined with muscle, and he’s sure his back is still as sexy as ever. He sees Cas taking in his body as well and has to fight the urge to cover himself up.

“I’m, uh, not in the same kinda shape as I used to be,” he says in explanation.

“Neither of us are. Does it make you want me any less?” Castiel asks.

“No! Of course not! You’re still hot as fuck, and uh, _obviously_ you’re turning me on,” Dean says honestly.

Castiel takes Dean’s hand and pushes it onto his erection. Castiel closes his eyes on a soft groan, and then when he opens them he says, “Obviously you’re turning me on, too.”

Dean eagerly palms him through his jeans, thrilled to be touching him again, and Castiel starts pushing him back towards the bed. The back of Dean’s knees hit the mattress and Dean falls back and lands with a whoosh. He scoots back until he’s on the middle of the bed and Castiel crawls across the bed towards him. He holds himself up on his hands on either side of Dean’s body, and kisses him thoroughly before trailing his lips down his face and to his neck. At first he’s gentle, tracing wet lines with his mouth and tongue, but then he starts nibbling, and Dean’s dick gives a very interested twitch when he feels Cas’s teeth sink into his neck and he sucks a mark there.

He can’t help the desperate sound that comes from his throat. Castiel looks down at him and with his eyes blazing he declares, “Mine.”

Dean feels a wave of arousal hearing that and nods. “Yeah, Cas. I’m yours.”

“Everybody’s going to see the mark I left on you and know you’re mine again. Are you okay with that?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean answers.

Castiel smiles wickedly and continues kissing his way down Dean’s chest. Cas’s mouth is like fire, and everywhere he touches Dean he can feel the flames catch. Dean’s already tossing his head back and forth on the pillow, overcome with memories and emotions. Every time he catches a glimpse of those blue eyes he feels his heart stutter in his chest. He knew he had never stopped loving Cas, but being close to him like this again is bringing it back to the forefront of his mind and he has to consciously work at keeping those words from coming out of his mouth.

“Oh, _Dean_ ,” Castiel breathes. “I missed you. I missed this. I missed the way you taste, the way you feel under my hands. I missed you so much.” Dean’s heart is so full and he feels warm all over. Then Cas’s hands are on Dean’s belt, undoing it and pulling his pants down along with his boxers. Dean lifts his hips to help him out and then he’s completely naked. Castiel’s pupils are blown wide when he meets Dean’s eyes again. “You’re clean?”

Dean can only nod in response, thanking the foresight he had to get tested when they started talking again. He’s so fucking hard he’s throbbing, and then Castiel grips Dean’s cock in his hand and lowers his head to lick across the tip of it. Dean makes a sound of pleasure in his throat and Castiel makes a sound that sounds a lot like, “Mmmm.” Castiel makes eye contact again before he wraps his lips around the head of Dean’s cock and sucks gently. Dean feels his tongue dart across the slit of his cock and he throws his head back in pleasure.

Castiel drags his lips down the rest of Dean’s hard length and takes him all the way into his mouth. “Jesus Christ,” Dean gasps. Castiel hums with him still in his mouth and Dean jerks under him. He clenches Cas’s bed sheets in his hands when Cas fondles his testicles and starts bobbing his head up and down, making the hottest fucking sounds he's ever heard. When he starts sucking again and Dean sees him hollow his cheeks he has to stop him. “Wait,” he gasps again. “I’m gonna blow my load and I haven’t even touched you yet. Wait,” he begs. Castiel pulls off with a satisfied smile on his face. “Take your damn pants off already,” Dean huffs at him.

“So bossy,” Castiel replies, smiling. He gets his pants off though, and Dean zeroes in on his cock. It’s just as beautiful as he remembers. Right now, it’s flushed red and glistening with precome, and Dean wants nothing more than to lap it all up for him.

“My turn,” Dean says, licking his lips lewdly.

Castiel shakes his head. “I... I’m sorry but I’m still waiting on test results back. I’m fairly certain I’m clean, but I’m not willing to risk it.”

Dean tries not to think about what Cas has done with other men in order to need to be tested. “Condom?” Dean asks, and Castiel nods. He lays on the bed beside Dean and grabs one from the nightstand. Dean takes it from him and tears it open with his teeth, and then rolls the lubricated condom onto Cas. Not wanting to go down on him with a condom on, he instead lays his body flush against Cas’s, slotting their dicks together. Dean revels at the feeling of Cas’s body under him again. They both groan, and Dean kisses Cas while they start thrusting against one another, settling into a rhythm and unable to keep kissing because they’re both gasping and panting after only a few minutes.

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel murmurs against his lips.

“Mmmm, Cas. My Cas,” Dean says in return.

“Feels so good,” he pants, following the lines of Dean’s back with his hands, trying to pull him closer.

Dean can’t help thinking about all the times they’ve moved together like this. Sometimes just like this, but the rhythm makes him think about all the times they had sex, too.

“Cas,” Dean groans. “Fuck. So good, babe.”

“Touch me,” Castiel begs him.

Dean snakes his hand between them and takes them both into his hand. Cas grunts his approval and bites down on the meat of Dean’s shoulder. Dean starts stroking them together in his hand, aided by the lube of the condom and his own precome. Cas closes his eyes and exposes his neck, so Dean nibbles his way along it. He twists his wrist, circling their cockheads, and Cas lets out a moan.

“Ugh, like that, yeah,” he says.

Dean follows his instructions and continues to do it after every few strokes. Cas is getting more and more vocal, thrusting into his hand and making the hottest, neediest little sounds, and Dean knows from past experience that means he’s getting close. Every noise he makes brings Dean that much closer to the edge himself, and he knows they’re not going to last much longer.

“Dean!” Castiel calls out.

“I know, baby. I’m right there with you. You’re gonna make me come so hard,” Dean promises.

“Faster,” Castiel begs.

Dean tightens his grip and starts jacking them together faster and harder.

“Oh fuck,” Castiel curses. “Gonna come. Gonna come for you, Dean. Fuck, you make me feel so good. So much. Missed you so much,” Castiel babbles, finally meeting Dean’s lips again.

His words make the heat already gathering in Dean’s stomach come to a boiling point, and he chokes out Cas’s name against his lips as he comes between them hot and hard. He sees white flash behind his eyes and the only thing giving him enough energy to keep his hand moving is being desperate to get Cas to his own orgasm.

Castiel’s fingers dig into Dean’s back and his body tenses, and then Dean feels additional warmth as Cas empties himself into the condom. Dean strokes him through it softly until Cas jerks away. He takes the condom off and ties it before letting it drop to the floor with a wet plop. Then he gives in and collapses on to Castiel’s chest, pillowing his head in the crook of his armpit and trying to catch his breath.

Cas strokes up and down between Dean’s shoulder blades with his hand lazily.

“Mmmm,” Dean says happily.

“I don’t know about you, but I feel considerably more relaxed right now than I have since Christmas Eve 2014.”

Dean agrees with a sound. “Missed you, Cas. So freaking much. Not just the sex stuff, but this part, too.”

“I completely agree, but I believe I would be even happier if I wasn’t covered in your drying come.”

Dean snorts. “Sorry. I’ll get a cloth,” he says, beginning to roll away.

“I’ve got wet wipes, hang on,” Castiel insists, and reaches into the drawer for them. “For the record, there’s a garbage can on the other side of the bed. Instead of dropping a used condom on my floor next time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Been my boyfriend for twenty minutes and you’re already nagging me,” Dean says, smiling and kissing Cas on the cheek. He shuts up quickly when the cold wipe hits his stomach. He cleans himself up as Cas does the same, and then they resume their earlier cuddling position.

“Much better,” Castiel sighs happily, planting a soft kiss to the top of Dean’s head. “When do you work tomorrow?”

“I’m off tomorrow,” Dean answers.

“Do you want to stay?” Castiel offers.

“You know I do, more than anything. But I don’t know if I should yet. I’ll stay for a while, because I don’t want to leave, but I think I should probably sleep at home. Maybe next time we can plan in advance and I can pack a bag so I can have my stuff here,” Dean says.

“Okay,” Castiel answers softly.

“You mad?” Dean checks.

“No, not mad. I just like having you in my arms again. I don’t want to let you go,” Castiel confesses, squeezing him a little bit tighter.

Dean hears  _I love you, Cas,_ in his head, but he doesn't say it. Instead he says, “I don't want you to.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re really doing this, right? We’re all in? We’re together again both hoping to stay together for the long run? Not just fooling around… right?” Castiel confirms.

Dean angles his head up and kisses Cas on the neck. “I was trying not to think about this in bed last night. I was… I was worried you'd say you didn't think you'd ever want to marry me.”

There’s silence for a moment but Cas’s voice is soft when he answers. “I don’t think that’s true. I’m not willing to commit to that today or anything, but if we can keep making each other this happy then that's what I’ll want. Someday,” he adds.

“You're all I ever wanted, Cas,” Dean says honestly. “I never stopped wanting this. Wanting you. I never stopped lo…” but he catches himself, and lets his voice trail off.

“I know,” Castiel says quietly. “It’s too soon to say it, but I know. I feel the same way. I never stopped either.”

Dean couldn’t stop the reaction he has to those words if he wanted to. His eyes fill with tears, and he does the only thing he can think of doing in the moment, and clings as hard as he can to Cas. He has dreamed about this, wished for it, and in his weakest moments, even prayed for it. He’s cried so many tears thinking he would never really be happy again, that he would never feel whole again all because he made a mistake and lost the only real love he’s ever known. He feels the tears roll down his face and onto Cas’s chest, and he knows there’s no way he isn’t feeling it, too. He’s embarrassed but he can’t make himself stop.

“Hey,” Castiel says quietly. “C’mere,” he requests, pulling him up closer. Dean happily scoots up to bury his face in Cas’s neck and Castiel holds him tight, continuing to rub his back for him, shushing him quietly. “It’s okay,” he promises, “I’m not going anywhere this time. I don’t want to be without this ever again.”

“Cas,” Dean chokes out, his name almost unrecognizable.

“Shhh, it's okay, Dean. I got you. We’re together again. It's going to work this time,” Castiel says, consoling him.

“I got you back,” Dean says against his throat. “I got you back,” he repeats. It's all he's thought about for so long, and he can hardly believe this is actually happening.

“I didn't know how badly you wanted this,” Castiel says, still rubbing his back. “The only other times I've ever seen you cry was after the very first time we made love, and when I walked away from you in the restaurant the first time. I didn't know how much this was affecting you.”

Dean lets out a watery laugh and pulls away to wipe at his face and nose. “Didn't want to freak you out.”

Castiel kisses him on the forehead. “It’s nice to feel loved again.”

And he _is_. Cas told him he isn’t ready to hear it yet, but he is _so_ loved, and Dean’s thrilled that he knows it and that he feels it. “I’m gonna stay tonight,” Dean says finally. “If that’s okay.”

Castiel laughs. “Didn’t take much to convince you.”

Dean snorts. “Only almost saying the words I’ve been wanting to hear for the last three years,” he admits wryly. “Can’t imagine why I’d want to stay now that you’re making my dreams come true again.”

“You were never like this before,” Castiel says, sounding exasperated.

“Like what?” Dean asks.

“You hardly ever told me you loved me before. You were affectionate, and I knew that you loved me, but you almost never said these kinds of sweet things to me before.”

“Sure I did,” Dean argues.

“You didn’t,” Castiel insists. “I know because it was one of the reasons I was so surprised you proposed to me. I always felt like I loved you more than you loved me. Like it wasn’t evenly balanced between us. I had no idea you were even thinking along the lines of marriage. We weren't even officially living together.”

Dean pushes up to his elbows. “Are you joking right now?”

“Do I sound like I’m joking?”

Dean sits all the way up and pulls the blanket up to cover him from the waist down. He suddenly feels very exposed. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you didn’t know how much I loved you. That you were fuckin’ everything to me,” Dean says, heart hurting again. “I did everything for you. I fixed your house, and did the dishes, mowed and raked the lawn. How many times did I fix your car? I know I did a shit job of telling you but I thought I did okay showing you. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for you.”

“I knew you loved me, but I didn’t think it was like that for you. I didn’t even realize you were trying to show me you loved me by doing those things for me.”

“Shit, Cas,” Dean says, his mind completely blown. “I don’t know how I fucked up so bad that you didn’t know.”  His mind is spinning trying to remember specific times he told Cas just how much he meant to him, but he comes up blank. ”I’m so freakin’ sorry that I didn’t tell you before, but I swear, everything I’m saying now - and everything you don’t want me to say yet - was true then, too. You were _everything_ to me. You made me happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I was nothing without you, and God, I’m _so_ sorry you didn’t know that when it mattered.” This time it’s Cas whose eyes are shining with unshed tears. “I swear to you, if you let me, I’ll tell you every single day.”

“It matters now, too,” Castiel says, blinking his tears away. “It feels really nice to hear it.”

“I care about you so much,” Dean tells him, using the only words he’s sure he’s allowed to use. “Promise me if I’m ever doing a shitty job of telling you or showing you again that you’ll tell me so I can fix it?”

“I don’t believe that’s going to happen this time, but I promise I’ll tell you,” Castiel says kindly.

Dean runs his hands through his hair. “Man,” he says, still floored by all of this.

“Dean, please don’t let this ruin what we have right now. Don’t let guilt from before get to you again. We both made mistakes, and now we have another chance and we’re going to do better.”

Dean nods, trying to swallow down the guilt that Cas knew he was feeling. “I’m still sorry,” he says.

“I know,” Castiel answers, smiling softly. “I’m going to get us some pajama pants to sleep in, okay?”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “I’m not a wounded animal, Cas. You can get outta bed if you need to without having to explain yourself. I’m probably done crying for tonight.”

Castiel laughs softly and gets out of the bed like he said he was going to. “I like how you say that with so much confidence.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I’m a big softie now, so it comes with the territory,” Dean reminds him, smiling.

“I like you like this. I like knowing how you’re feeling,” Castiel says as he opens his dresser drawer and tosses a pair of pajama pants in Dean’s direction. Dean slips into them still laying on the bed. Cas steps into a pair of his own and then walks over to pick up the used condom and then puts it in the garbage on the other side of the bed with a disgusted look on his face. “I hate condoms,” he complains.

“You always did,” Dean remembers. “We barely ever used them together.”

“Not after I made you get tested,” Castiel agrees. “Had to make sure my manwhore of a boyfriend didn’t have anything from the hundreds of girls he ran through before me.”

Dean quirks a brow. “How the tables have turned.”

Castiel rolls his eyes as he gets back in bed beside Dean. This time he lays on Dean’s chest, and Dean can’t help but think how perfect it feels to have Cas back in his arms where he belongs. “Man this feels good,” he says, squeezing Cas tight to his body.

 

 

 

“How long do you think it’ll be until we’re over the novelty of being back together?” Castiel asks.

“A really, really long time,” Dean answers. “Maybe never. I feel like I took you for granted the first time around, and I can guarantee I’m not gonna do that again.”

“I don’t think you took me for granted. It was just so easy, wasn’t it? We got along so well that we hardly ever argued over anything more than what to watch or what to eat. Neither of us could get enough of each other sexually, so we had more orgasms between us than most people probably have in their lifetimes,” Castiel chuckles. “I don’t think it occurred to either of us that it might not last. I know I didn’t think we were going to break up any time soon.”

“I guess you’re right. If you’d asked me a week before I popped the question if anything could have broken us up, I would’ve said no. I just couldn’t imagine either of us doing anything bad enough that we wouldn’t want to work through it. And I guess we didn’t,” Dean continues after a moment. “It took us a couple of years, but we worked through it, didn’t we?”

“Hmm, yes, I guess we did. I never thought about it like that,” Castiel says. “I wish we hadn’t lost that time together.”

“I almost cried when I saw the grey in your hair,” Dean says, running his hands through it now and smiling at the memory. “Made me realize how much time I wasn’t around for.”

“It would’ve been kinder not to mention that, you know,” Castiel says flatly.

“Why? You’re still sexy as fuck, even though we’re getting old.”

“I'm 42. I'm not _that_ old,” Castiel says. “Though I might answer differently in the morning.”

“ _You’re_ going to answer something in the morning? With actual words instead of glares? Who even _are you_?” Dean asks.

“No morning hand job for you,” Castiel answers, and though Dean can’t see his face he can tell he’s smiling.

“You think I’m gonna wake up at the ass crack of dawn just for your hand, Cas? I can sleep until noon if I want to,” Dean answers, also smiling.

“You can also get off and then go back to sleep,” Castiel offers.

Dean laughs. “Like I was gonna turn you down anyway.”

“I’m sorry we can’t do anything more. I thought my test results would be back by now,” Castiel says.

“No big deal. Better safe than sorry and all that crap, right?”

“The chances of contracting anything from the very limited things I’ve done in the last few years are minuscule at best, but yes. I don’t want to pass anything on. That would be awkward,” he says.

“It’s awkward even talking about it,” Dean answers. “I still hate the thought of anybody else touching you.”

“I hate the thought of you trying to pick up other men to forget about me,” Castiel replies.

“I didn’t even kiss another guy!”

“But you were going to,” Castiel answers. “And how many women did you kiss?”

“A lot,” Dean admits. “Anybody who could make me feel anything other than broken for a while there. But I still never fucked them. I couldn’t even get through a blowjob because every time I looked away all I could see was your eyes and the way you used to look at me with my dick in your mouth.”

“Oh you poor thing,” Castiel says sarcastically.

“You _should_ feel bad for me! Going from all the sex we used to have to using my own hand was fucking painful. You and me tonight is the first time I got off with anything more than my hand and a dildo in almost three years. ”

Castiel pushes up to his elbows to look Dean in the face. “You bought a dildo?”

Dean can feel his cheeks redden. He just said it, so it’s not like he can take it back. “Yeah. So?”

Castiel laughs sotfly. “Don’t get defensive. I'm just curious. As far as I know, you didn’t own one when we were together, did you?”

“No, why would I need one when I had you?” Dean answers honestly. “ _Any guy_ who’s had his prostate stimulated wouldn't just forget about it afterwards. It’s just a lot easier to hit my prostate with a dildo than with my fingers, okay? I don’t have to bend so much,” Dean explains.

Castiel’s voice is lower than usual when he asks, “Did you think of me?”

Dean wishes the blush on his cheeks would go the fuck away because he's really _not_ embarrassed about that. “Every time.”

“Fuuuuuck,” Castiel groans. “Now all I can see in my head is you fucking yourself on a dildo, pretending it's my cock pumping into your ass, and it’s a really, really hot mental image.”

“I’ll send you a picture,” Dean promises, and leans in to kiss him.

Castiel groans. “Would you really?”

Dean huffs out a laugh. “I was mostly joking, but I guess I could if you really wanted me to.”

“I really do,” Castiel answers immediately.

“You seem pretty anxious. You’re not gonna kick me outta bed to make me do it now, are you?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Castiel answers. “If I could get it up again I’d be all over you right now.”

Dean bursts out laughing. “How the mighty have fallen,” he says finally.

“Okay, we might be kind of old,” Castiel relents, stifling a yawn.

“You ready for bed?”

Castiel nods. “Let’s go brush our teeth.”

They do that, side by side in Castiel’s bedroom, and Dean thinks of the hundreds of times they’ve done this before. His heart fills with the thought of doing it another hundred times, and maybe one day, doing it together every night. They take turns using the bathroom, and then they climb into bed together. Dean turns on his side and lets Castiel cozy up behind him, making Dean the little spoon but allowing him to be held, which is what he really wants. His bare skin against Cas’s is comforting, and he feels the energy drain from his body quickly.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” Dean says sleepily.

“Thanks for staying,” Castiel answers.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Dean whispers.

Castiel kisses the back of his neck and replies, “I did, too.”

“Have a good sleep, baby.”

Castiel lets out a happy sounding sigh and he says, “Goodnight.”

Dean falls into sleep easily for the first time in years, feeling safe and secure and like he’s finally back where he belongs.


	18. Chapter 18

The next few days pass in a blur. He doesn’t see Cas Wednesday night or Thursday because he works those nights, and though they talk almost constantly, by Friday night he’s almost literally jonesing to see him again.

When Cas knocks on his door ten minutes before Sam and Jess are due to show up, Dean doesn’t waste any time pushing him up against the door and kissing him breathless. If he thought he could get away with more before his brother showed up, he’d try it, but he knows he can't. So, once he feels himself getting hard, he wrenches his mouth away and pulls Cas into a tight hug instead, burying his face in his neck to get a deep breath of Cas.

“I missed you, too,” Castiel says, nuzzling into the side of his face and along his jaw.

Dean flashes him an unapologetic smile. “Let’s go put your shit in my room,” he says, leading the way.

“I thought it might be strange being here again,” Castiel begins as he follows him, “but it isn’t. It doesn’t look as though anything has changed but the television,” he quips.

“Doesn’t bring back bad memories?” Dean checks.

“On the contrary. I don’t even have bad memories of this apartment,” Castiel says, putting his bag on the floor beside Dean’s dresser. “The hallway got to me a bit, but as long as we don’t eat out there I think I can manage. In here though? It only brings back happy memories… and sexual ones.”

“Well I doubt there’s a single flat surface in the entire apartment we haven’t fucked on,” Dean realizes, laughing at the thought.

“Which reminds me… my test results came back. All clean,” he smiles wide.

“Thank Christ,” Dean groans, suddenly thankful for the space the bed is forcing between them as they stand on either side of it. “I’ve been thinking about you for days.”

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you for days,” Castiel admits and Dean groans his own response.

“Let’s lock the door and not let Sam in,” he suggests.

Castiel actually lets out a small giggle and Dean’s pretty sure Cas can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks at him. “Stop it,” Castiel says, not sounding at all serious.

“Besides the whole wanting to jump your bones thing, I’m really glad you’re staying over tonight. I never sleep as well as I do when I sleep with you,” Dean admits.

Castiel’s smile is huge when he answers, “And to think you were so against cuddling when we first got together.”

Dean snorts. “I wasn’t really. Just didn’t want to admit to how much I liked it. I always thought it was girly, you know, to like cuddling. But it doesn’t feel girly when you’re a line of hard muscle around me.”

“Hm, I’m not so muscley anymore though, and you really didn’t seem to mind on Tuesday, based upon how tightly you were wrapped around me every time I woke up.”

Dean just arches a brow. “Clearly you can’t see your own back. Believe me. Muscle.”

“You’re extremely good for my ego,” Castiel replies, still smiling but shyly now.

“Dude. I’ve told you a million times. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You can make me hard with a single look! I’ve never been this attracted to anybody in my whole fucking life.”

“Let’s lock the door and not let Sam in,” Castiel echoes Dean’s previous words back at him, and Dean can’t help but laugh. Castiel is walking around the bed, closing the distance between them for the first time since Dean had him pressed up against the door, and he can feel the attraction crackling between them.

Sadly, before he even has the chance to as much as touch him, he hears, “Honey, I’m home!” and his front door opening.

Castiel freezes and Dean laughs. “He never stops thinking that’s funny,” Dean says, exasperated by his younger brother. “C’mon,” he tells Cas, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him back out of his bedroom still wearing a big, happy smile.

Sam’s eyebrows are so high on his forehead they’ve almost disappeared into his hairline. Dean wraps his arm protectively around Cas’s hips. “Should’ve known you two would be in the bedroom,” Sam says, clearly disapproving. Jess elbows him and Dean smiles at her.

 

 

Dean can feel Cas tense beside him. “I _wish_ we were in the bedroom for that,” Dean says. “Just putting his overnight bag away.”

“Not wasting any time, then,” Sam says, again, coldly.

Dean narrows his eyes. “Really, Sam?”

“Hey Cas,” Jess says, ignoring her fiancé and walking over to him and wrapping him in a tight hug. “It’s so nice to see you again! I missed you!”

Cas seems a bit surprised by the hug but he returns it eagerly once he understands what’s happening. “It's nice to see you again, as well,” he says sincerely. He pulls away to give her a once over. “It seems that the engagement is agreeing with you. You look fantastic!”

She beams at him. “I really did miss you. I’m happy you’re back in the family,” she says sincerely.

Sam snorts. “I think it’s a little too early to be making big declarations like that, Jess.”

She gives him an amused smile. “If you say so, hon.”

“It’s nice to see you again, too, Sam,” Castiel says bravely.

“Yeah, I bet,” Sam replies.

“I haven’t kicked your ass for real in about fifteen years, Sammy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t,” Dean warns him.

“I didn’t even do anything,” Sam replies, wearing his most annoying bitch face.

“You’re being a dick,” Dean argues.

“Dean, it’s fine, really,” Castiel pacifies.

“I don’t need _you_ to defend me,” Sam says bitchily to Cas.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Dean says, his voice raised, temper beginning to kick in.

“Hello! In case you let all the blood from your brain get lost on the way to your dick again, this is the guy that broke your heart, Dean! You know, the one I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces of for the last three years? You go on what, two dates, and now he’s staying the night again? Who’s going to pick up the pieces when this all goes to hell again, huh? Me again, right? Because we all know he’s not going to be around to do it!” Sam explodes.

“That’s it,” Dean says quietly, rage simmering under his skin. If it wasn’t for Castiel’s fingers squeezing around his wrist he’d be up in Sam’s righteous, bitchy face right now. “You have no fucking right to talk to me or my boyfriend like that in my house. I am a grown ass man Sam, and if I want to marry Cas tomorrow you do not get a say in that. Do you understand me?”

“There is no way -” Sam begins.

“That’s enough!” Jess interjects. “Are you children or adults?” She glares at Sam. “We do not have to agree on Dean’s life choices, Sam, but we do have to speak to one another with respect. Now both of you put your big boy panties on and sit the hell down at the table and talk this out like the mature men I know are hidden up your asses somewhere!”

Castiel lets out a muffled laugh and Jess whirls on him. He raises his hands in the air and says, “Sorry. Up your ass joke with two gay guys in the room. Couldn’t help myself.”

“I’m not gay!” Dean says automatically and Castiel and Jess both try to muffle their laughter.

“I can’t believe you’re still saying that,” Jess says, leading the way to the kitchen table with all the boys following behind her. Sam pulls the chair out and slumps into it like a kid on time out, and Dean can barely hide his amusement.

“Did you get in twoubwe, wittle Sammy?” Dean says using baby talk. Jess clears her throat purposely and Dean looks away pointedly. “Sorry. Adults.”

“How do you do that?” Castiel asks Jess, voice reverent.

“It’s a gift,” she answers, smiling proudly. “Now, Dean, I think what your hothead of a brother was trying to say while using all the wrong words and the completely wrong tone of voice, is that he’s worried about you moving too quickly with Castiel and getting your heart broken again. As happy as I am to see you two happy together again, I was there the last time you broke up too, and I can understand where Sam’s coming from. You were really messed up.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Dean deflects.

“I’m not going to break his heart,” Castiel says forcefully.

Sam snorts again but Jess gives him a single look and he shuts right up. “Sorry,” he says to Jess, then he meets Castiel’s eyes again and says, “So you’re just going to stay with him forever then?”

“Yes,” Castiel answers honestly.

Dean’s heart flips in his chest. Cas doesn’t mean that though, he tells himself. He’s just saying that to appease Sam - and he can’t even blame him. “Cas,” Dean interrupts. “You don’t have to say that just to shut him up.”

This time Cas gives Dean a look and Dean’s the one who shuts up.

Castiel looks back at Sam and meets his gaze. He has an open and honest expression on his face and lets his emotions show when he says, “I never stopped loving your brother. I have never loved anybody like this but him, and I’m certain I never will. I made a terrible mistake walking away from him three years ago and if I could take it back I would. Instead, all I can do is try to make up for lost time by spending every available moment with him, showing him how much I lo- how much I care about him and proving to him that I’m not going anywhere.”

 _He almost said he loves me_ , Dean thinks. He shakes off the thought and starts defending him. “And let's not forget Cas isn’t the only one who fucked up. I fucked up, too. Twice, actually. But we talked it out and forgave each other, and now all we wanna do is be together and be… well, be fuckin’ happy again,” Dean says.

Jess looks at Sam, who seems to have deflated a little bit. “Before you started yelling at him, he did look happy again,” she says kindly. Dean wants to roll his eyes at how Cas perks up at this comment but he restrains himself. He’s cute, really.

“I know,” Sam says quietly. “That’s what set me off.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Dean says.

“Shh,” Jess says to Dean. “Go on,” she encourages.

“I… I’ve been trying since you left to get him to look like this again,” Sam says to Castiel, not dropping his gaze. “Almost every day for almost two years. You have no idea how hard I tried. I brought him burgers and pie. I tried to set him up with girls and guys. Tried to get him playing guitar again. I tried everything I could think of but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get a real smile out of him for anything! I called Benny to come visit and Dean lasted all of two hours with a smile on his face before he cried himself to sleep in front of his best friend because he _missed you._ I couldn’t even get him to stop drinking. I had to choose between driving his car home from work every day or lay in bed at night wondering if tonight’s the night I get a call about Dean getting in a car accident because he drove home drunk the one night I didn’t go get his car.” Sam stops to drag his hands through his hair. “I hate that you just waltzed back into his life and I finally see him happy again because I know you can take it away just as fast as you gave it back. And if you do, there’s nothing I can do about it because nothing I did made a difference before anyway. I don’t know if we can both survive it a second time.”

Jess reaches across the table and lays her hand on his arm in a gesture of support.

“That’s not even true,” Dean says gruffly. “About you not making a difference. I mean… You know I don’t like talkin’ about this shit, and especially not in front of Cas, but I probably wouldn’t even still be here if it weren’t for you. I wouldn’t be sober right now if it weren’t for you, Sammy. Hell... I never really said, but I’m pretty sure a lot of the time I was just tryin’ to drink myself away, ya know? I didn’t even care if…”

“If you woke up the next morning. I know,” Sam says seriously. “Do you have any idea how hard that is to watch? How hard it was to watch you sober up, and shake, and yell, and cry about him after I had to watch you be drunk every day for two years because you couldn’t let him go?” Dean shakes his head, ashamed. “So can you imagine why I might be feeling a little bit overprotective right now? There’s literally nothing in the world I’d like more than seeing you happy again, but not if it comes with the risk of that kind of fall again. I don’t know if you can take it, Dean, and it’s not worth it.”

Dean takes a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions stable. “If Jess walked out on you right here, right now, would you fight to get her back?” Dean asks.

“What kind of question is that?” Sam asks, looking between him and Jess. “Of course I’d fight to get her back.”

“Even though you’d be heartbroken and a shell of the man you are with her right now, you’d still do whatever you could to get her back, no matter how long it took, right?”

“Yes!” Sam answers. Jess has a little smile on her face and Dean knows she’s got it even if Sam doesn’t yet.

“Why can’t you see that’s exactly what I’m doing with Cas? Cas is my Jess, okay? He’s it for me, and even if all I ever get is the three dates we’ve had so far and then he leaves and I get all fucked up all over again, it would still be worth it and I’d _still_ go chasing after him again.”

“I’m not going to leave!” Castiel says passionately from the other end of the table. Everybody turns to look at him. “I want Dean for as long as he’ll have me, and he feels the same way about me. Nothing is guaranteed in life. Something could happen and I could die tomorrow. One of us could screw up monumentally again and we could break up tomorrow or ten years from now. But the same thing could happen to you and Jess,” he points out. “I neither have the need nor desire to sit here and defend the only thing that’s ever made me happy because of a mountain of hypotheticals. I am sorry for everything you had to deal with when Dean was drinking, Sam, and I can’t thank you enough for helping him get his act together again. But believe me when I say we’re happy together right now - even while buried under this shit storm that was supposed to be a fun night with who I thought were my friends. Just… please let us be happy again.”

Jess gives a nod. “He’s right, you know,” she says to Sam.

Sam stares Castiel down hard. “I swear to God, if you hurt him again…”

“I will be the first one at your door asking you to kick my ass,” Castiel promises. “You don’t even have to be nice to me in the meantime, just please don’t make Dean choose between us. I need him, Sam.”

“I… I wouldn’t. I won’t,” Sam says. Jess is still looking at him like she’s waiting for him to say something specific. Sam sighs, then says, “I’m um, I’m sorry for losing my temper.”

Castiel’s lips quirk when Jess’s face lights up and she leans over to give Sam a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s forgotten,” he tells Sam.

Dean gives Jess a wary look, wondering if he's allowed to talk yet. He decides to wait for Jess to speak first.

“I wish I had lollipops to hand out to all of you for being such brave, big boys,” she says brightly and Dean can’t help his snicker.

“Are we done with the chick flick moment now?” Dean asks, feeling everybody out.

“Yeah,” Sam answers with a small smile. “I’m done.”

“Don’t have a spazz again, but I just wanna talk to Cas alone for a minute and then I’ll be back to fry up the burgers. Cas?” Dean asks, turning to face him. Castiel nods and they both stand and make their way to Dean’s room, and Dean closes the door behind them. Immediately, he pulls Cas towards him for a bone crunching hug. “Are you okay? Fuck, I’m so sorry you had to listen to all of that, Cas.”

Dean feels Castiel’s hands stroking his back and he himself feels much better instantly. “I’m alright. I didn't expect things to go in that direction, but I'm alright. Are you okay?” Cas asks. He pulls back to check Dean’s expression.

“Don't really like talking about shit like that,” he says with a shrug. “But uh, you said some stuff that was nice to hear,” Dean says shyly.

There's a small smile on Castiel’s lips when he says, “Oh really? What were they?”

“You know,” Dean says, smiling. He leans in to rest his head against Cas’s so that he doesn't have to look him in the eye saying this stuff. “That you aren't going to leave. That you want to spend as much time with me as you can. That you've never felt like this about anybody else. That you never stopped loving me.”

Castiel can't seem to help brushing his thumb over Dean’s cheek and kissing him softly. “All true. Not necessarily how I would have chosen to say all of those things…”

“Arguing with my brother, you mean?” Dean teases.

Castiel smiles. “Exactly. But I mean them all. And tonight, after they leave, I'm going to tell you all over again while we make love.”

Dean can feel his mouth go dry and his heart rate pick up again. “You… you’re uh, ready for that?”

Castiel kisses him again, this time opening his mouth and inviting Dean in with a curl of his tongue, and it makes Dean wish they didn't have company again. Castiel is the one who eventually breaks their kiss and says, “I'm ready for everything with you.”

Dean feels his eyes water and shakes his head. “You're gonna make me cry again. Fuck, this is getting old fast,” he laughs harshly.

Castiel chuckles softly. “Save it for later. You okay to get back out there?”

Dean nods and rolls his shoulders as if prepping himself. “I'm good. Let's go.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW art included in this chapter!

Dinner goes surprisingly well considering the way it started. There is still a level of disconnect between Sam and Cas that never used to be there, but they’re at least polite to one another, and Dean and Jess do a good enough job of being a buffer between them to keep things going smoothly.

Even though it’s not a conscious decision on either of their parts, Castiel and Dean can’t seem to keep their hands to themselves. When Dean’s cooking, Castiel’s hands find themselves on his back or his hips, or even just trailing along his body while he walks by. While they’re eating, they make sure their legs are touching under the table, and somebody’s hand is always on somebody’s leg. When they sit down on the couch later, they’re pressed together as closely as they can get away with, and even then they still hold hands or put their arms around each other.

When Dean leans in to whisper a sexy suggestion in Castiel’s ear Jess throws the remote control at them.

Dean looks at her with his jaw dropped. “What the hell, Jess?”

“You two are disgusting!” she says.

Dean looks at Cas and sees that he looks just as confused as he is. “We’re not even doing anything! I haven’t kissed him since you got here!”

Sam snorts. “It might actually be worse if they’re not doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what, exactly?” Castiel asks.

“Wow,” Sam says.

“You two are like magnets. Every time one of you moves, the other one follows along,” Jess explains. “You’re so adorable it’s disgusting.”

“I don’t think they’re adorable,” Sam adds.

“Why am I not surprised?” Jess says sarcastically. “I think we should get outta their hair, hon. We’re clearly cramping their style, if you know what I mean.”

Sam’s look of disgust shows he knows exactly what Jess means. “Ew,” he says, and Dean and Cas both laugh a little.

“How about I make it worth your while?” Jess says, smiling devilishly at him.

“Ew!” Dean says, and this time everybody else laughs.

Sam stands up from the couch and pulls Jess up with him. Dean and Cas get up too, and then they all make their way to the front door. “Thanks for cooking us your burgers, Dean,” Jess says.

“I’m always impressed when you manage to eat the whole thing. That’s how you know you’ve got a keeper, Sammy,” Dean tells him.

“That, and the fact that I talked you two doofuses down from a fist fight,” she says, arching a brow.

Sam looks at the ground for a second and then back up at Castiel. “I’m really sorry about that, by the way. As nervous as I still am about all of this, it’s also really, really nice to see Dean happy again. So thanks for making him happy, I guess.”

“Thank you for giving me another chance,” Castiel says.

“I don’t think I had much of a choice,” Sam replies, looking at Dean. “I doubt I’m going to see my brother much for the next little while without him hanging off of you.”

“Always knew you were smarter than you look,” Dean jokes, wrapping his arms around Cas from behind now that he feels like he can.

“I’ll talk to you later, man. And uh, you too, Cas,” Sam says, giving him a little nod.

“See you handsome fellas again soon,” Jess says, stepping over to give them each a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t keep the neighbors up all night,” she winks, pushing Sam out of the door ahead of her.

“No promises!” Dean shouts after her and he laughs when he sees Sam give him the middle finger over his shoulder as he keeps walking.

He closes the door behind them and leans against it, sighing heavily.

“It could’ve gone worse,” Castiel offers, smiling sheepishly.

“I probably would’ve punched him if you weren’t holding my wrist,” Dean admits.

“I know. You’re not exactly subtle. And I haven’t forgotten about your temper,” Castiel says.

“I don’t really have a temper,” Dean argues.

“Not usually. But if somebody insults somebody you care about, you get really mad really fast.”

“No wonder I almost punched him then,” Dean says seriously. “I really, really hated hearing him say bad stuff about you.”

Castiel has a sneaky looking smile on his face when he takes a step towards Dean. “You’re such a good boyfriend defending my honour like that,” he says, voice quiet. He keeps moving until there’s barely any space between them and leans in to kiss Dean’s neck. “So brave and strong,” he says, trailing his lips up to a sensitive spot right behind Dean’s ear. “I forgot how sexy you are when you’re angry.”

Dean's hands come up to settle on Cas’s hips, but he pushes up a little bit under his shirt so he can rest his hands on the bare skin there instead. He gives a little tug to erase any of the space between their bodies, and the hard line of Cas’s muscular body feels so good pressed against his, his hands wind up on Cas’s lower back, holding him in place so he doesn’t back away.

But instead of backing away, Castiel rolls his hips forward, rocking their bodies together, and his breath comes a little faster against Dean’s ear. Dean turns his head to the side, giving Castiel more access to the skin he’s working his magic on, and when he feels his hot lips making their way to his mouth, he eagerly turns back towards him to meet halfway. The first touch of their lips sends a current of desire running through Dean’s body. Judging by the groan muffled by Dean’s lips, Dean assumes Cas is feeling the same thing.

Castiel takes a step backwards, grabs a fist full of Dean’s shirt, and pulls him towards the bedroom. Their lips never part, and they devour each other’s mouths, relearning the shape and taste of each other’s mouths like their lives depend on it. Dean is already painfully hard in his pants by the time they cross the threshold into his bedroom. Dean can feel Cas pulling his shirt up over his head, so he lifts his arms to help him out, then reaches for the hem of Cas’s shirt and pulls it up as well.

They’re both breathing hard and looking at each other, lips swollen and eyes dark with desire. “Are we doing this?” Dean asks, needing to be sure.

“If we’re not, I’m going to need a really, really cold shower,” Castiel answers.

Dean leans forwards and kisses him again because he can’t stop. “Seriously,” he says between kisses. “Are you sure? There’s no rush. We can wait until you’re ready.”

“Believe me, I’m ready,” Castiel answers. “I have never been more ready,” he promises, deepening their kiss and lighting Dean’s entire body on fire when he does.

Dean wavers for a second whether he should ask the question in his mind or not, and decides to go for it. “Tell me this isn’t just sex,” he says, leaning back to see Cas’s face.

“What?” Castiel asks, breathless.

“I - I can’t do this if it’s just sex. I know I can’t not say all the things I wanna say if we do this and you ask me not to. The words are gonna slip out and I don’t wanna hide them from you,” Dean explains.

Castiel cups Dean’s face in his palm the way Dean loves so much, and Dean leans into the touch, allowing it to calm him the way he knows Cas wants it to. “This is not just sex. I’m in love with you,” Castiel says, voice clear as a bell, bright blue eyes shining with emotion. “I never stopped loving you and I never will stop loving you. You are the only person I want to be with for the rest of my life. I love you, Dean.”

Dean kisses him on a choked sob. He’s overwhelmed with the best possible mix of emotions. “I love you, too. God, you have no idea how much, Cas. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. For you. To finally tell you again. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he says, practically vibrating with excitement at finally being able to say these words to him again. “I’ve wanted to tell you a hundred times already. I love you.”

Castiel’s smile is blinding as he gathers him close to his body and just holds on for a moment. Eventually, he teases, “Can I keep taking your clothes off now? You can keep telling me how much you love me, but I really want you naked.”

“Fuck yes,” Dean answers quickly and they both laugh shakily and reach for each other’s pants to undo them as they come back together to continue kissing. They both step out of their pants and boxers, and begin moving back towards the bed. Castiel’s hands are moving along Dean’s chest as he walks him backwards, and Dean reaches down to grasp Cas’s cock in his hand. His thumb swipes across the already wet tip and Cas’s breath catches.

“Leaking for me, Cas?” Dean teases.

“Fuck,” Castiel replies on a shaky breath. “You’re incredibly arousing.”

Dean grabs a hold of his hips and spins them, and then pushes Castiel onto the bed roughly. Castiel starts backing up towards the middle of the bed and Dean doesn’t waste any time crawling on after him. “I’m gonna worship every inch of your body, and show you how much I love you, how much I want you,” Dean promises.

“Please,” Castiel says, breathing heavily already. “I missed you so much. Nobody’s ever made me feel like you,” he confesses.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” Dean breathes. He kisses him deeply, making sure to hold his body up and away from Cas’s so neither of them gets too excited and ends this earlier than they want to. He's waited so long for this and he wants it to be perfect. Once Cas has relaxed under him, he breaks their kiss and slowly kisses his way down the hard line of Cas’s jaw and then to his neck. “You’re so perfect,” he murmurs against his skin and he hears Cas inhale a shaky breath at his words.

He drags his mouth down to his collarbone and when Cas writhes under him, he sucks and nips until he’s satisfied with the bruise that blooms under his lips. He dips his tongue into the hollow of Cas’s neck on his way to his chest, and then sucks gently on his nipple, causing a soft sigh of pleasure to come from his boyfriend. The love he feels for him in this moment is stronger than anything he's ever felt. “I love you,” he whispers. “Love your body. Love you so goddamn much.”

Cas’s whine is the only response he gets as he keeps trailing his mouth further and further down Cas’s body, inching towards his goal and feeling his own cock throb with anticipation. He grins when Cas’s hands make their way into his hair, knowing how much Cas wants him to keep moving lower. Just to fuck with him, he spends several minutes nibbling and sucking on the seductive jut of his hip bones. The closer he gets to Cas’s rock hard dick the harder it is to resist. He can smell the musky scent of his arousal and he wants nothing more than to bury his face in it.

“Fuck Dean,” Castiel curses, gripping Dean’s hair tighter in his fingers.

Hearing him sound so incredibly raw turns Dean on even more. “I wanna feel every inch of your skin under my lips again, Cas. But right now I’m dying to taste you,” Dean warns.

Castiel’s eyes go wide and his breath catches, and Dean smiles before he lowers his head to finally lap at the precome beading at the tip of Cas’s cock. “Mmmm, you taste so good Cas. Wanna suck you off and swallow your come so fucking bad.” He lowers his head further to trace the thick vein from the tip of his cock to the base, and then applies more pressure with his tongue and follows the path back up. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive head, and then without any warning, takes Castiel’s long cock right down to the root.

“God, yes,” Castiel gasps. His hands tug on Dean’s hair and Dean moans around him. “Jesus fuck, Dean, your mouth.”

It’s been a long fucking time but Dean’s body remembers what to do for Cas, and the back of his throat opens up easily so he can take him all the way in. He flicks his eyes up to glance at his boyfriend through his lashes and sees him pushed up onto his elbows looking down at Dean as his cock disappears between his lips. He bobs his head up and down, loving the feeling of Cas’s cock heavy and hard in his mouth. He alternates between suckling and swirling his tongue around the tip of his cock and sinking down on his entire length fast and dirty. Dean takes him in as far as he can and then closes his eyes and swallows around Cas’s thick length when suddenly his hair is being pulled and his head is being dragged away. “You are way too good at that,” Castiel rasps, and now that Dean gets a better look at him, he’s pleased as fuck to see just how wrecked he looks.

Dean shoots him a cocky smile and says, “I could suck you off all day.”

“Tomorrow works for me,” Castiel answers quickly and Dean laughs.

Before Dean is completely aware of it happening, Dean is flat on his back with his legs bent and his ass in the air. Castiel’s hand cups his sack, moving it out of the way before Dean feels his tongue lick a wet stripe across his asshole. Dean makes a high pitched sound of pleasure and he feels Cas moan against his skin before he starts circling his hole with his tongue.

Dean has always loved being rimmed and Cas obviously hasn’t forgotten that. He eats him out with fervor, pulling his asscheeks apart to spear him open with his tongue, and Dean grinds his ass into Cas’s face the best he can, both absolutely desperate for his cock and never wanting him to stop.

Dean isn’t conscious of the words spilling out of him until he hears them come out of his mouth. “Please, Cas. Please, please, please,” Dean begs.

Castiel drops Dean’s legs and the next thing Dean knows, Castiel’s erection is pressed against his while Castiel devours his mouth. Dean can taste himself on Castiel’s tongue and moans into his mouth. It’s dirty and gross but so fucking hot it just spurs him on further. He’s never wanted anything like he wants Cas right now. Dean bends his knees and hitches them around Cas’s waist while they thrust against each other, and Cas’s hands drift down the sides of Dean’s body to get a firm hold on his asscheeks. Dean lets out a loud sound of pleasure and Castiel squeezes again, letting his thumbs just barely brush against the cleft of his ass.

“Oh fuck, please, Cas,” Dean whines, rutting against Cas the best he can while pinned down by his body.

“Please what?” Castiel asks, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me so bad Cas, please,” he begs, completely unashamed.

Castiel puts pressure on his perineum with his fingers and Dean throws his head back as he calls out. Castiel dives for the exposed skin, and nibbles his way across Dean’s neck. “You make the sexiest sounds when I touch you like this,” Castiel breathes, applying more pressure and eliciting another desperate sound Dean makes in his throat. Cas holds him down by his neck, hitting another one of Dean’s kinks, as he reaches for the lube he knows is in the nightstand beside Dean’s bed.

Dean hears it when Cas pops the lid and squirts some lube onto his fingers. Cas has wiggled down the bed and Dean knows from past experience it’s because he likes to watch his fingers spread Dean open. Dean _knows_ how good Cas is at this and he can barely wait to have Cas inside of him again, and he whines when he feels his cool finger circling his entrance. “Want you so bad,” Dean gasps. “Missed you.”

Castiel doesn’t hesitate. He presses a single digit gently past the tight ring of muscle he used to be so familiar with, and Dean’s back arches as his boyfriend’s finger slides into the tight heat of his ass.

“Holy shit you’re tight,” Castiel lets out in a whisper.

“More, please,” Dean asks, voice rough.

“No fucking way,” Castiel disagrees. “You need to be patient. I’m gonna open you up so nice for me, Dean,” he promises.

“Want your huge fucking cock now, Cas,” Dean tries, so far past the point of caring about anything but getting fucked. He pushes down on Castiel’s finger to prove his point.

“Dean,” Castiel says seriously, stopping the movement of his finger. Dean’s eyes snap open and meet his. “You can’t possibly have any idea how badly I want to fuck you right this instant, but you need to let me prep you so I don’t hurt you. Okay?”

Dean takes a deep breath and nods. “Sorry. Just really want you,” Dean tries to explain.

Castiel kisses the inside of his thigh. “I understand, believe me. You should see how beautiful your pucker is, stretching for me, taking my finger so greedily,” he coos as he resumes fingering him, and after a few minutes he must feel like Dean’s loose enough because he adds more lube and a second finger. “So good for me, Dean. I can see how much you want my cock,” Castiel tells him, and then Dean feels Cas’s lips start kissing his way up past his cock to his hips and his stomach. There is no burn from Cas’s fingers, only unbelievable pleasure, and Dean couldn’t keep quiet if he wanted to.

“Cas,” he pants. “ _Fuck, yes_. Like that.”

“Mmmm,” Castiel responds, dragging his mouth up further to lap at one of Dean’s nipples as he keeps moving his fingers in and out of Dean, scissoring his fingers to stretch him more thoroughly. Dean’s back arches off the bed again, needily pushing his nipple harder towards Cas’s face. Castiel takes the hint and closes his teeth around the budding hardness there.

Dean hisses in pleasure. “You’re fucking killing me. Everything feels so damn good.”

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Castiel praises him. “Always so responsive. You’re turning me on so much, Dean.”

“Feels so good with you,” Dean tells him.

Castiel grabs for the lube again and kisses under Dean’s jaw gently as he adds more to his fingers. “You’re opening up perfectly for me,” he says to Dean.

“Want you,” Dean gasps, but then Dean has no words left when three of Cas’s fingers are inside of him. Though there’s a slight burn, it’s the good kind of burn and Dean makes a guttural sound in his throat. Without meaning to, Dean starts fucking himself on Cas’s fingers, and when Cas finally lets a finger brush against his prostate he feels his entire body tense as stars flash behind his eyes as he yells out, “ _Ah_!” Castiel hits that same spot, over and over, making Dean completely unable to stay still and causing him to feel like he’s going to lose it any second. 

“You could come from this,” Castiel says suddenly, sounding like Christmas just came early.

Dean nods and Castiel growls with pleasure.

“That’s new. You learned that on your dildo, hm?” Castiel asks. “Will you come on my cock, Dean? Am I better than your toy?”

Dean groans and nods again. “Please.” Castiel’s fingers speed up, twisting and turning inside of him, making Dean writhe on the bed again, and then he pulls out and Dean actually whimpers at the loss. “I'm ready. Really. Make love to me, Cas,” Dean says, feeling his body flood with emotion.

“I've wanted to for so long,” Castiel answers, kissing him softly. “Condom?” Castiel checks.

Dean shakes his head. “Wanna feel you fill me up,” he rasps.

“Jesus Christ,” Castiel curses, slicking his cock up with the lube. Then Dean feels him nudging against his hole and he forgets to breathe as Castiel thrusts hard to pop through the tight ring of muscle before he sinks into him slowly, one torturous inch at a time. Cas’s mouth is hanging open in obvious pleasure and Dean meets his eyes and can still feel that heat between them even now.

 

“You’re so perfect,” Castiel gushes, kissing him everywhere his lips can reach when he bottoms out and waits for Dean’s body to relax. “So beautiful. I love you so much.”

“Finally. My Cas,” Dean answers, leaning up to kiss him. “So fucking full,” he groans. He almost forgot how amazing it feels being filled up by a cock like this. “So right. You feel so good, baby. I missed you.”

Castiel’s kisses grow more desperate, and soon they’re rocking together slowly, almost sweetly, in complete contrast to their demanding kisses. Dean is taking advantage of being able to roam his hands all over Cas’s strong back, and every time the muscles bunch under his hands he feels another little thrill of pleasure deep inside of him. Eventually, he runs his hands down to squeeze Cas’s perfectly round ass cheeks in his hands, and pulls him in to thrust inside of him harder.

Castiel moans deep in his throat and Dean starts pushing against him faster, meeting every thrust half way and encouraging Cas to really fuck him now, and Castiel doesn’t disappoint. Their pace quickens and their breath is punched out of them, and suddenly they’re not able to continue the kiss that hasn’t stopped since Cas entered Dean. But their lips still brush, and their breath mingles, and Dean feels so much he can hardly stand it.

Castiel starts peppering kisses down the side of his neck and Dean catches snippets of the things he’s murmuring into his skin. Dean hears _perfect_ , _beautiful_ , _sexy_ , _amazing_ , _gorgeous_. He feels like he’s glowing, and then he hears, “Love you, Dean. Fuck. Dean,  _Dean_ , Dean.”

Castiel puts his hands under Dean’s lower back and hitches him up a little bit, and he nails his prostate hard on the next thrust, punching a whimper out of Dean. He hits it again and again, causing Dean to make the most desperate, needy sounds he’s ever made in his life, but all he cares about is reaching the orgasm he can feel beginning to build.

“Caaaas,” he whines.

“I’m so close, Dean. Are you -?” Castiel asks, breaking off mid-sentence to gasp as Dean meets his next thrust.

“Fuck yes,” Dean answers. “Don’t stop. Please,” he begs, digging his fingers into Cas’s back, clinging desperately to him.

“You feel so good,” Castiel tells him. “Only you. Forever, Dean. Tell me.”

Dean feels his heart fill impossibly more. “Forever, Cas. Want you forever. Love you forever. Only you, baby. Was only ever you.”

“Dean,” Castiel says with his eyes closed, voice even lower than usual. “Again.’

“I love you, baby. Forever,” Dean gasps, breath coming so hard he can barely make the words as Cas pounds into his prostate over and over again.

Cas rests his forehead against Dean’s and looks him straight in the eye. “I love you. Missed you. Every single day,” Castiel whispers, and for some reason, those words fuel the already burning fire inside of Dean, and his body jerks as he comes between their bodies in thick, white ropes with a silent shout of pleasure.

Castiel kisses him while his mouth hangs open, and his moan goes directly into his mouth when Cas’s hips stutter. Cas’s hands find Dean’s, and Dean groggily notices their fingers lace together and press into the bed. He hears Cas choke out his name before he feels the first hot spurt of come inside of him as Cas thrusts his way through his own orgasm chanting Dean’s name like a prayer the entire time.

Next thing he knows, Castiel collapses on top of him and he’s practically buried into the mattress by his very heavy boyfriend. He takes his weight while he can, stroking his sweat slicked back, and tries to catch his own breath.

A few minutes later he checks on him. “Cas?” He presses a soft kiss to the side of his head.

Castiel makes a muffled sound that might have been a word, but if it was, Dean doesn’t catch it.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, baby, but you’re not exactly light,” Dean says as nicely as he can. It must not have worked because he feels a pinch on the back of his thigh and yelps. This time he definitely hears a laugh from Cas and he can’t help but laugh with him. He’s so fucking happy.

Castiel wiggles away and leaves the room to come back with warm cloth to clean Dean up gently. He kisses him softly as he wipes the sticky come off of his stomach, and then kisses his newly cleaned stomach as he gently wipes between his legs. Dean feels his heart melt again when he watches Cas place a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh. The cloth hits the floor with a wet plop and then Castiel shimmies back up the bed and Dean rolls so that Cas can hold him.

He gets settled in Cas’s arms and he feels a soft kiss to the top of his head. “That was perfect,” Castiel whispers.

“You’re perfect,” Dean answers, smiling stupidly.

“I’m a little surprised we managed to get through that without crying,” Castiel says.

“I was way too full of your dick to cry,” Dean deflects.

“Dean,” Castiel says, chastising him.

Dean gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “It was perfect, Cas. Sex with you has always been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“But?” Castiel asks, hearing the unsaid word.

“You know sex wasn’t everything I wanted from you. It was fucking awesome, but I got what I really wanted when you said what you said to Sam earlier, and then when you told me you meant it again after that. Which did make me start crying, in case you forgot,” Dean reminds him. “I think you kind of eased me into it so I wasn’t so overwhelmed when you finally said it.”

“Said that I love you,” Castiel finishes for him.

“Yeah,” Dean lets out on a breath. “Best three words in the whole freakin’ world,” he smiles. “Still kinda hard to believe though.”

“Hard to believe? Did you forget that I loved you long before I ever thought I could have you?”

“No,” Dean answers honestly. “I guess there was just a really big part of me that never thought this was going to happen again.”

“It’s happening,” Castiel assures him. “I do love you. You’ve made me happier in the last few months since we started talking again than I was the entire time we were apart. I had everything I ever wanted - a nice house, a great job, friends, and family. But it meant almost nothing without you to share it with.”

“I was so lonely without you,” Dean admits quietly.

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel says, gathering him impossibly closer and holding him tight. “You’ll never be alone again, I promise. I want to be with you every day. Every morning and every night... if you’ll let me.”

Dean waits, seeing if Cas will make himself more clear. He doesn't. He takes a deep breath then jumps off the cliff head first. “You uh, you wanna live together?” Dean asks.

“Yes, I do,” Castiel answers quickly and Dean’s heart soars. “I know other people will say it’s too fast but it doesn't feel like it. Does it?”

“It feels like we should’ve been together all along,” Dean replies.

“Like this was a long time coming,” Castiel agrees. “If this is what you want.”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted. I would love to live with you, Cas,” Dean says pushing up on his elbows to look at him.

“Live with me? In my house?” Castiel checks.

Dean nods. “Yeah. You bought it, and I just pay rent here. Your place is bigger. Plus you got that awesome couch,” Dean jokes.

“Are you sure?” Castiel double checks.

“I’d give up everything I have to live in a box as long as it’s with you,” Dean explains. “I’m sure.”

Finally, a huge smile spreads across Castiel’s face. “You make me so happy, Dean. Thank you.”

“We’re gonna make this work, baby,” Dean promises, and he can feel it in his bones.

 

Sometimes you don't know what you have until it’s gone. It’s a saying for a reason, Dean figures. But sometimes you can get it back. And sometimes, if you're really lucky, you can get it back and make it better than you ever imagined, and that’s what happened with them.

Dean knows it’ll never be perfect, and it probably won’t be as easy as they think it will. They fight sometimes, and they bitch at each other every now and then, and they even take turns sleeping on the couch a few times. They take a lot of shit from people who love them who think they’re taking all of this way faster than they should. But neither of them care about any of that. Above everything else, they’re together and happy again, and that’s all that matters to both of them.

On Christmas Eve 2017, Dean and Castiel are alone at home in the matching Christmas pajamas Cas bought for them and insisted they wear. Cas is on his hands and knees putting the last gifts under the tree, and when he turns around again to face Dean, Dean sees that he has a ring in his palm and love shining in his eyes. Dean drops to the floor beside him and wraps his arms around Cas’s neck, gasping out, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” with tears already streaming down his face before Cas can even ask the question.

After making love that night, Dean digs out the engagement ring he bought for Castiel three years ago from the back of his dresser drawer, and slips it on his finger where it should have been all along without saying a single word.

They fall asleep wrapped up in one another with more love between them than most people will ever find. And from that night forward, every time Dean goes back to December in his mind, it’s to this moment, this night, and these feelings. Their love never fades, and their happiness never dulls, and they live the rest of their lives together knowing that as long as they have each other, they have everything they’ll ever need.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a quick summary from Castiel's POV, and a little bit extra at the end to show how different Dean is now <3

Castiel can still hardly believe that this is happening.

Dean asked him on a date.

On an actual date!

And he hadn’t even fallen over sideways out of pure shock _or_ jumped up and down with excitement. He took a deep breath and told himself for the hundredth time not to move too fast.

He tries to remind himself it’s possible that Dean is just telling him what he wants to hear. Maybe Dean hasn’t actually changed at all, and he’s just saying all the right things and acting the way he thinks Castiel wants him to because he wants him back.

Not that that’s a bad thing. But he doesn’t know if he can handle the disappointment if he gets his hopes up and then is let down all over again.

As usual when it comes to Dean, he gave in rather quickly.

Having Dean in his arms again after they had coffee felt so impossibly good, so perfectly right, that he could hardly hold in the tears. He missed him _so much_ and as soon as he was in his arms again all of his walls crumbled down and it took every ounce of strength he possessed not to just confess his love all over again and promise to never, ever let him go.

When Dean got back into his car and was about to drive away Castiel couldn’t for the life of him remember why he was trying to be cautious. So as he’s done several times with Dean already, he threw caution to the wind and told him that he would accept if Dean asked him out on a date again.

But Dean didn’t.

They’ve texted back and forth a few times, but Castiel has noticed that Dean only answers him if he texts first. Maybe he isn’t actually interested after all? Maybe Dean doesn’t still feel things between them the way he does?

But that isn’t the way Dean acted when they were together. That’s not what he said. And it certainly isn’t the impression he gets from the texting they’ve done.

Dean has opened up to him more since they had coffee than he ever could have hoped for. Dean told him about how he filled the journal he gave him for Valentine’s Day and how much it helped him work through a lot of the things that he believes were holding him back from really letting Cas in the last time they were together. Dean even told him that if things work out between them, he’d like him to read it sometime. He seems to think that it would help Cas to understand him better. Dean _never_ would have done something like that in the past. He was even surprised that Dean kept the journal he gave him at all.

So he just tells himself to relax. He did tell Dean that he wanted to take things slow, so maybe Dean’s just trying to respect his wishes.

It’s the Wednesday afternoon after they had coffee when Castiel hears somebody say to the receptionist at work, “I have a delivery for Castiel Novak.”

Castiel pushed his chair away from his desk and made his way to the front desk, assuming it was a package of records from a client, but instead he saw the man had a bouquet of some sort in his hand.

“For me? Are - are you sure?” Castiel asks.

Sarah, the receptionist, laughs. “Castiel isn’t exactly the kind of name somebody uses by mistake. Take the bouquet and say thank you,” she prompts him.

Castiel takes it and thanks him. The delivery person walks back out the door and Sarah is basically bouncing in her seat.

“Open it, open it!” she exclaims.

Castiel feels heat rise to his cheeks but he smiles and sets it down on her desk to open it. She passes him scissors to cut the ribbon away, and once the cellophane is discarded, Castiel sees it’s a giant bouquet of candy.

He knows now who it’s from without needing to see the card, but he reaches for it anyway. He pulls the card out of the little envelope and reads, _I’m still sweet on you, Cas. Let me take you out._ He notices that Dean didn’t sign it, but he didn’t need to. Nobody else calls him Cas, and this particular bouquet is so _Dean_ that it couldn’t possibly be from anybody else. He feels his heart melt into a puddle of mush.

“What does it say?” Sarah asks. Castiel hands the card over to her, his face now flushed red with embarrassment, and she reads it aloud before she gushes. “Oh my god! That’s the cutest, sweetest, most romantic thing I’ve ever seen! Who’s it from? I didn’t even know you were seeing anybody!”

“Um, it’s from Dean, actually,” he says smiling shyly.

Her jaw drops. Everybody knew Dean because he stopped by often enough to pick him up or drop off lunch or any number of little things after they started dating, and of course, from the photo of the two of them that used to be on his desk. “This is so exciting!” she exclaims again. “I knew you never got over him.”

“Yes, well, you’ve seen him,” Castiel tries to brush off.

“I have, and I can’t say I blame you,” she laughs. “You’re going to say yes, right?” she asks, gesturing to the card.

“Of course I’m going to say yes,” Castiel smiles. Like he could ever say no to Dean.

“And you’re going to share that candy, right?” she asks.

“You can have one thing,” he tells her, and she lights up while she grabs for a rather large lollipop.

“Thanks, Castiel!”

He’s barely walked half a dozen steps before he’s stopped by another co-worker asking him what’s with all the candy, and then another and another until he feels as if he’s relayed the story and told everybody in the office that he’s going to go out on a date with Dean. He’s both thoroughly embarrassed and ridiculously pleased by the time he calls Dean to thank him.

Before he knows it, he’s on a first date with Dean. Not just a first date this time around, but the first _real_ date they’ve ever been on. Dean comes to the door the way he wished he did for their anniversary dinner so many years ago, and this time he has flowers in his hands. Dean bought him flowers!

This is something he’s always wanted from Dean and didn’t even allow himself to believe he’d ever get.

When he gets into the Impala after Dean opened the door for him (also a first) he was instantly overcome with memories. The inside of the car smells like Dean and leather, the way it always did, and he feels like he just went back in time. Dean buckled himself in and his hand went to the gear shift to move it into reverse and Castiel felt that same attraction to him he used to feel when he watched him drive.

Except this time, he isn’t supposed to act on it.

He isn’t sure if he’s happy or disappointed when Dean finally backs out of the driveway and effectively ended the charged moment between them.

When Dean explains why he chose The Station for dinner, Castiel is even more impressed. This time, he made a reservation, and when they sit down at their table there’s more flowers waiting for him.

Castiel could barely resist throwing himself at Dean when he asked him about them, and Dean had said, “You deserve it. Maybe I can make up for all the times I didn’t get them for you when I should’ve before.”

Dean seems aware of the things he didn’t do when they were together now in a way he never was before, and Castiel feels himself fill with hope.

He’s fighting a losing battle from that moment forwards.

He felt himself relax and let his guard down fully for the first time since Dean walked back into his life. He laughs easily again. For the first time in almost three years, he can’t wipe the small smile off of his lips, and he can’t keep himself from leaning into every single touch from Dean.

The feeling he has inside of him - the ridiculously cliched feeling of being complete again - is everything that he’s been missing since the minute Dean walked out on him on Christmas Day.

After Dean pays for dinner and suggests spending more time together, Castiel has absolutely no hope of denying him. They drive back to Castiel’s house with Dean’s classic rock music in the air and their hands clasped together on the bench seat, and for a few minutes, it feels like no time has passed at all. He’s back with Dean where he belongs, where he’s always belonged, and he’s having a hard time remembering why they should take things slow when being together feels so right.

When he kicks out the love seat recliner on his couch and he and Dean are close together, holding hands again, watching movies, he wonders absentmindedly why this is so perfect with Dean when it was just boring with Brian. He resists moving closer to Dean for as long as he possibly can, but it isn’t long before he takes a chance and drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder the way he’s wanted to since they first sat down. His heart soars when Dean wraps his arm around him, and he snuggles in even closer, his heart swelling with happiness when he feels Dean press a kiss onto the top of his head.

He’s so screwed.

A part of him knew that he had never stopped loving Dean, but he has never been more sure than right now. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know every detail of what’s happened in Dean’s life since the beginning of 2015. Castiel is in love with Dean, and he knows now that trying to put any space between them, trying to tell him that he wanted to date and sleep with other men - a desperate attempt to hold some power over Dean - and trying to tell himself that he could spend time with Dean without it feeling exactly like it always did was foolish.

Another foolish choice when it comes to Dean Winchester.

Dean’s right: some things don’t change.

And that’s proved again when their lips touch for the first time that night. Both of them dive in eagerly and it’s impossible to deny that the same sexual chemistry is still there between them. Castiel chases the familiar taste of _Dean_ and his mind is overwhelmed with memories of so many times they’ve kissed before. He can’t stop his body from reacting to Dean the way it always has. He can barely stop himself from throwing Dean up against the door - and thinking about the way their bodies would line up and how perfectly he knows they would still fit together definitely isn’t helping him resist...

When Dean ends the kiss and puts some space between them (a very wise decision on his part) Castiel wants to weep. He wants to throw himself at his feet and swallow the erection _he knows_ Dean has. He wants to feel Dean tremble as he opens him up with his tongue again, and he has never wanted anything more than he wants to make love to Dean again in this moment.

 _How_ Dean managed to keep his head and pull away from him, Castiel will never understand.

He knows it’s needy to text Dean again that night, but he can’t help himself. He has to know if Dean is feeling things slide back into place between them as easily as he is. He gets the same line that he said to Dean from the beginning: let’s take things slow.

It isn’t until Monday when he sees Dean again at the diner by his office that they talk all of that through. Castiel nervously admits his sexual limited history with other men over the last few years, and lays out his feelings for Dean. He still tells Dean that he isn’t ready to be his boyfriend in another attempt at trying not to dive right back into the way things were, but even as he says it, he knows it’s silly.

If they’re exclusively dating, and Dean still loves him the same way he loves Dean, there’s no point in delaying the inevitable.

Which is probably why he doesn’t last another whole date without bringing it up. He knows he’s pathetic. He kept trying to slow things down between them, but with their history and the sexual chemistry between them, it’s impossible.

He asks Dean if he can be his boyfriend, and then lasts about five minutes before he drags him into his bedroom to get him naked.

And oh my god. How could he have forgotten how good it was between them? How could he have forgotten how Dean’s hands and lips and mouth set him on fire like nothing else? How could he have forgotten how delicious it feels to have Dean pliant and needy beneath him? How could he have forgotten that damn possessive streak he has when it comes to Dean?

The possessive monster inside of him had roared with triumph when Dean allowed him to mark him up again, and reveled in Dean’s whispered, “I’m yours.” God, how he missed hearing that.

It’s not surprising to Castiel that neither of them last long before they find their release. Even when they were together before they never managed to last very long. There was always a sense of urgency between them, and apparently that hasn’t changed.

He asks the hard question while they’re laying together afterwards, sated and happy.

“We’re really doing this right?”

When Dean almost says that he’s never stopped loving him and then stops himself midway through, Castiel can’t possibly not return the words the only way he feels like he should actually say them after only being back in Dean’s life for a month.

“I’ve never stopped either,” Castiel confesses.

And then Dean broke down into tears, and started saying all of these sweet, amazing things. Things Castiel would have given _anything_ to hear when they were together before.

_I got you back._

_You almost said the words I’ve been wanting to hear for the last three years._

_You’re making my dreams come true again._

The one thing that felt like a knife right through his heart was, “I can’t believe this! I can’t believe you didn’t know how much I loved you. That you were fuckin’ everything to me! I didn’t everything for you. I fixed your house, and did the dishes, mowed and raked the lawn. How many times did I fix your car? I know I did a shit job of telling you but I thought I did okay showing you. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for you!”

Castiel’s mind was reeling. How could he not have known that Dean was trying to show him how much he loved him by doing all of those things for him? Dean did _everything_ for him. He didn’t even realize it until after they broke up, but he missed garbage day because he had no idea when it was because Dean was the one who always did that. He never even thought about it. He just accepted it like it was Dean’s job even though they didn’t live together. He had no idea that Dean taking care of him was his way of showing him that he loved him.

How did he not know? Would it have made a difference if he had? Would he have needed those three little words so badly back then if he could look around at his house and see everything Dean did to show him instead? Why didn’t he just _ask_ Dean?

“I knew you loved me, but I didn’t think it was like that for you. I didn’t even realize you were trying to show me you loved me by doing those things for me,” Castiel admits.

“I don’t know how I fucked up so bad that you didn’t know. I’m so freakin’ sorry that I didn’t tell you before, but I swear, everything I’m saying now - and everything you don’t want me to say yet - was true then, too. You were _everything_ to me. You made me happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I was nothing without you, and god, I’m _so_ sorry you didn’t know that when it mattered. I swear to you, if you let me, I’ll tell you every single day.”

And that’s it. That’s the moment Castiel completely gives up even attempting to hold anything back from Dean and just gives in to what his heart is telling him. Tears are pooling in his eyes, and he tries desperately to keep them at bay.

So far, Dean is putting every fear he had about the two of them being together again to rest. Some people might think it’s silly to forgive him so quickly and to just believe that he’s changed so drastically, but how can he doubt him when Dean’s putting his feelings into words exactly how he’s always wanted to hear them?

He loves Dean and Dean loves him. And there’s nothing keeping them apart anymore but himself.

He asks Dean if he’d like to move in with him in October after they made love again for the first time. He knows people are going to think it’s too fast, but he doesn't care. He already missed out on three years he could have been with Dean if they had just talked about their problems instead of burying them, and he isn’t willing to waste anymore time without him just because of what other people think.

Dean agrees, of course, and Castiel gives him a key to his house the very next day. As excited as they are, they don’t actually move in together right away. Dean’s lease doesn’t end until the end of the year, after all. So while they do spend every night together and Dean’s things slowly migrate back to Castiel’s house, they technically still have their own residences at first.

Dean lets him read his journal. He tells Dean it isn’t necessary, that he understands that it’s full of private thoughts during what had to have been a hard period in his life, but Dean insists that it’s imperative that Castiel read it. So he reads. He doesn’t understand some of what he reads, and some of the pain and loneliness he describes makes Castiel ache with an impossible need to go back in time to heal him. He reads about how Dean told himself over and over that Castiel deserves a better boyfriend. Somebody who could make him happy like Dean isn’t able to, and Castiel wants to shake him and tell him he was always good enough exactly the way he is!

But undoubtedly, the hardest part to read is when Dean starts talking about his parents. Dean never really talked about them much, even with him, and Sam followed his lead and never brought them up, either.

So at first, it’s kind of interesting to read about how Mary Winchester liked to bake and how strongly Dean associates pie with his mom. Both of his parents liked classic rock, and the only reason Mary even agreed to date John at all is because he knew the words to all of the Led Zeppelin songs. He understands Dean’s love for these things more now than he ever did before. From everything Dean says about them, he got the impression that his parents were very much in love, and that his mom was the kind of doting, loving mother that most people only ever see on television.

Seemingly without any kind of transition, Dean starts writing about how much it hurt to say _I love you_ outloud. He talks about how many times he thought it. He mentions specific times, even, including the 4th of July, and how much he hated himself when all he wanted to do was tell Cas that he loved him and the words wouldn’t come. He talks about how his throat always felt like it was closing up, and how his heart rate picked up, and his hands got all clammy.

Castiel knows just by the description that he was having panic attacks, and curses himself and Dean for the hundredth time, knowing that if Dean had just _explained_ how he felt when he tried to say the words out loud that he would have known there was some underlying issue there.

But it looks like Dean figured it out for himself.

He never got to tell his parents that he loved them before they died.

And even now, he can’t remember the last time he said it before they died, either.

How could Dean say that he loves him without wondering if it was going to be the last time he got to say it? Castiel’s heart breaks for him. All the times he managed to choke it out when it must have cost him so much to say it has Castiel looking at those moments in a completely different light.

It was never that Dean didn’t love him enough. Dean must have loved him immensely to push through that level of anxiety and say what he wanted to hear so badly. And even when he couldn’t say it, he tried _so hard_ to show him.

He tried so much harder than Castiel ever gave him credit for.

If only Castiel knew.

As if his mind isn’t already reeling from that information, the very next journal entry explains how Dean sobbed at his parents grave, telling his dad - his homophobic father - that he was in love with a man and always would be. Castiel feels tears slide down his face while he reads about Dean apologizing to his dad for being a disappointment to him, but that he isn’t going to hide how he feels anymore. Tears start all over again when Dean describes the feeling of acceptance that washed through him before he left, and how that was the moment he knew he could be a better boyfriend. A better man. Maybe even good enough for Castiel.

And the very next thing he did was reach out to Castiel again.

No wonder Dean seems so different. Of course, a lot of the things are the same, too. Which is good. He never wanted Dean to change who it was. He just wanted to know that he’s loved.

And now he does.

Dean tells him every day.

It’s the last thing he hears every night before he falls asleep with his arms around Dean the way it should always be. The way it should have always been. Their sex life is just as amazing as it was before, but this time, on top of the desperation they always had between them, there’s dozens of declarations of love, too. Castiel had no idea he could feel so fulfilled in every aspect of a relationship. This is everything he’s ever wanted from Dean and his heart has never been so full.

The only thing left for Castiel to worry about is how it will feel to be back at The Roadhouse.

Because Dean works days now, the same as him, he doesn’t get the chance to go there until only days before they’re meant to move in together officially. December 28th. Castiel is on Christmas holidays at work, and The Roadhouse is open as usual, so they made plans to meet up for lunch.

Now that he’s here, he has to sit in the parking lot for a couple of minutes to work up the nerve to go inside.

The last time he was here, he thought Dean was in a relationship with Benny. Even though it wasn’t true, it doesn’t make the memory of how he felt go away. The time before that was New Years Eve. Even knowing that Dean didn’t kiss that woman - that she kissed him - Dean still _let her_ kiss him, and he still had to see it happen. He doesn’t want to remember that or the way it made him feel at the time, but it’s all he can think of.

He has his head resting on the steering wheel with his eyes closed when he jumps at a knock on the window.

It’s Dean.

He feels foolish, and gets out of the car with pink cheeks. Dean immediately pulls him into his arms, and Castiel goes willingly.

“Are you okay, baby?” Dean asks him.

His first instinct is to lie. To tell Dean that he’s fine even though he’s not. It’s not Dean’s fault that he’s having a hard time putting the past in the past now that he’s standing here, and Dean shouldn’t have to comfort him about it. Again. But he remembers how terribly it worked out the last time he lied to Dean and told him he was fine when he wasn’t.

So Castiel shakes his head. “Not really,” he admits.

“What’s the matter?”

“I keep thinking about the last times I was here. How I saw you with Benny and thought you had gotten over me so quickly. And the time before that, when I saw… when I saw…” Castiel can’t keep going.

“Shit. I’m sorry, baby. We don’t have to have lunch here. Let’s go somewhere else,” Dean offers.

“No. I can’t never come here again. I need to get past this. What happened was in the past, both of them misunderstandings to some degree, and I can’t be afraid to go in your bar for the rest of my life.”

“And you _are_ stuck with me for the rest of your life. You’ve got that ring on your finger where it should’ve been all along,” Dean reminds him.

“And you have mine on yours, as well,” Castiel says with a smile.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean tells him. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved, and the only person I ever will. No matter what happened in that bar before, we worked it out. We’re here. We’re together. And there isn’t anything we can’t get through together, right?” Dean asks him.

Castiel nods, warmth filling him from Dean’s words. The words he needed to hear so badly right now.

“You’re right. Let’s go in together,” Castiel says, drawing strength and resolve from Dean’s presence.

“Yeah?” Dean checks, sliding his hand along Castiel’s until he links their fingers together.

“Thank you for coming out to check on me,” Castiel says to him as he starts walking towards the door.

“Wouldn’t have known you were out here if it weren’t for Jo.”

“Jo?” Castiel asks.

“Yep. She came in the kitchen and told me you pulled in but didn’t get outta the car. Think you might’ve finally worn her down,” Dean tells him.

“Only took, what, six years?”

“Good thing you’re stubborn,” Dean comments.

“Pot. Kettle,” Castiel says pointedly.

Dean grabs the door and holds it open for Castiel to walk through. Dean wraps his arm around his waist once he follows him through the door, and instead of leading him to his old seat at the bar, Dean leads him to a small booth in the corner where they sit across from each other.

“Still, uh, don’t really like bein’ that close to the bar, you know,” Dean offers shyly.

Castiel reaches across the table to take Dean’s hand before he remembers that Dean isn’t particularly comfortable with displaying affection at work. He tries to hide the way his face falls when he has the thought, and he begins to pull his hand away awkwardly before Dean’s reaches out to stop him.

“You really think I give a shit about what anybody else thinks now that I’ve got you back?” Dean says, smiling at him.

“I - I wasn’t sure,” Castiel admits.

“I’m marryin’ you, Cas. It’s us against the world now. Forever.”

Castiel fells all of the tension he was still holding in his shoulders disappear as a smile comes to his face. “I love you,” he tells Dean.

“I love you, too, baby,” Dean answers him. “Check out the new menu,” Dean says, pushing one across to him.

“I can’t believe I can actually get a decent burger here now,” Castiel quips.

“Fries, too. What’re you gonna tease me about at work now?”

“We’ll see about that once I actually eat here,” Castiel responds. He opens the menu and takes a look through it. His lips quirk when he sees Dean has renamed _The Roadhouse Burger_ to _The Winchester Burger_. “The Winchester Burger, really?” Castiel asks.

“What?” Dean asks defensively.

“What is with you and the unoriginal burger names?” Castiel teases.

“Shut up! I worked hard on those burgers. I deserve the credit,” Dean insists.

Castiel shakes his head. “I can just picture you in the kitchen with your chest puffing out a little bit more each time somebody calls back an order for a Winchester Burger.”

Dean flushes, which is enough of an admission of guilt for Castiel to know he’s right.

“You are adorable,” Castiel says fondly.

“I know you are but what am I?” Dean returns, which makes Castiel chuckle.

“Hey losers,” Jo says, approaching their table with two sodas in her hands.

“I know you are but what am I?” Dean replies again. Castiel laughs harder the second time. God, he missed him.

“Let me guess: two burgers with fries?” Jo asks.

“Not just burgers,” Castiel corrects her. “ _Winchester_ Burgers! Dean won’t get his ego fix if you don’t call them by name.”

Jo snorts. “I know, right? I said the same thing! Who names a burger after themselves?”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have anything named after you,” Dean says to Jo.

Jo rolls her eyes. “You got me,” she says dryly, and Castiel can’t stifle his smile. “Just the burgers and the fries, then?”

“That would be great, thank you,” Castiel says.

“Be back in a jiff. Don’t trade handies under the table,” she says over her shoulder as she walks away.

Dean snorts and Castiel can feel his cheeks turn a little pink. “I think I might have preferred it when she hated me,” Castiel jokes.

“I don’t. Kinda nice not to have the two of you swiping at each other all the damn time.”

“It’s _really_ nice to sit here with you without trying not to touch you,” Castiel remarks.

“You can touch me as much as you want. I’ll even take that hand job if you’re up for it,” Dean grins.

“Don’t tempt me. It’s been a while since my exhibionist side has had it’s fun,” Castiel replies. He can see the way Dean’s eyes darken and how he licks his lips unconsciously.

“Hey… you uh, wanna go see what I changed in my office in the last three years while we wait for our burgers to cook?” Dean offers.

Castiel smiles and nods. “I’ve been wondering about that,” he lies.

“Come on,” Dean says, getting to his feet quickly and taking Castiel by his hand. He leads the way through the restaurant and to the door behind the bar. He waits for Castiel to walk past him, and then his hands are already on Castiel’s ass and his lips are on his neck before they can even make it to his office.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Jo says from behind them.

They both turn to see her standing there with her arms crossed across her chest.

“You said no handies under the table,” Castiel reminds her, and he hears Dean laugh against his neck before he gets pushed into the office and slammed against the door.

Some things don’t change, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this all the way through. Even after all this... I'm not entirely sure I'm done with these two characters. We'll see I guess!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Graphics for Back to December by Tricia_16](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12333732) by [lotrspnfangirlgraphics (lotrspnfangirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/pseuds/lotrspnfangirlgraphics)




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